Together in France
by maintje
Summary: COMPLETE!Draco departs on a trip to France, but loses a bag along the way. When he tries to find it, he discovers none other than Harry Potter has found it. HPXDM, slash. Post Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1: Lost Luggage

**Hi! This is my new fic. I don't know how long it's going to be yet, since I'm still writing it. Anyway, I didn't want to let you guys wait, so I just posted it. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

**A special thanks to my lovely sister for coming up with the idea for this fic, and to DrarryLover28 for betaing this chapter. **

_Chapter one_

_Lost Luggage_

Finally the holiday season had started. Things had been so busy at the Ministry that Draco feared he wouldn't be able to go on a trip at all. The head of the Department needed to present every second of every day. Luckily Seamus Finnigan, who was an Auror too, had proposed to take over his job as long as he was gone. So at last, he got off work and had booked a trip to France instantly.

Draco had decided to stay in a Muggle village during the holidays. He had been entirely occupied with his work as an Auror that he feared he wouldn't be left alone if he stayed in the Wizard world. Not that he didn't trust Finnigan in his position, but he would be furious if he received an Owl from the Ministry. Right now, he just needed a break from everything.

He apparated close to his destination, and took the Muggle transportation to reach the final destination. He was staying in a hotel in Paris, France – his favorite country.

Draco was rather satisfied about how the transport turned out. He had no problem with taking the cab at all and managed to pay him the right amount of Muggle money. The cab had been a bit expensive, but Draco knew he had more Muggle money inside his luggage to take cabs during his stay. He arrived on time, entering the most amazing hotel he had ever been to.

The ceiling was at least 10 meters high, and was supported by long, golden pillars. Enormous candles hung from the ceiling. On his right hand side, there were comfortable couches and on the left hand side there was an inviting bar. Draco smiled, he would certainly feel at home here. First, he needed to check into his room.

"Identification, please," the man behind the counter inquired. The assistant looked very chique too. Draco could already see his mother's approving expression, on her normally emotionless face.

"Just a second please," Draco informed, looking for the special card he had purchased himself to be a lawful Muggle and to be able to stay in a Muggle hotel. He looked in his bags and realized a piece of luggage was missing. He hadn't noticed until now. A wave of panic went through the blonde.

His clothes! His wand! All the most important stuff was inside that bag. Draco could kill himself right now. How stupid could he be? He had lost the most important bag! He was defenseless now; anybody would be able to kill him. And more importantly, the person who found the bag would find out about the Wizard World.

Not that Draco was that concerned about the Wizard World, he was more worried about himself, and what would happen when he didn't retrieve his damn luggage. He looked up to the man again, a lump in his throat. "I've lost my luggage," he groaned, hardly being able to keep from screaming.

"I'm sorry sir. You'll have to go to the counter in the corner there. The woman will assist you." Draco followed the pointing finger and nodded. He practically ran over there, dragging the rest of his bags all the way.

"Excuse me Madame, I've lost my luggage. It's a rather large black bag." Draco hoped deep inside his heart that they would have found the bag. No such luck.

"We haven't received any messages of lost objects so far, but I'll keep an eye out if you want. What's your name please?"

"Draco Malfoy," Draco replied quietly. It was really difficult to resist the urge to scream. These losers hadn't found his bag.

"Thank you sir. Would you want us to call you when we find it?"

"Eh, my phone is in there too," Draco lied. He didn't have such a Muggle device of course. And if he would, it would probably be in there. He nodded friendly to the helpful lady, having helped him out immediately, but feeling like she could have done more.

For the love of Salazar. How was he supposed to find his bag? If the people here hadn't seen it, it would most likely be outside the hotel.

Draco left the hotel and found a taxi. He didn't know where to start. He figured the rest of his Muggle money was also in that bag, having spent the rest of the money on the previous cab, so he ignored the waving taxi driver and continued on foot.

Where the hell would it be? Draco kicked an empty can and cursed immediately after, because there had still been soda in it. Luckily, Draco didn't need to drag the rest of his luggage behind him. The lady had offered him to keep an eye on them while he was searching, until he was able to check into his room.

How would he find his luggage? He didn't even know where to start! It would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

* * *

Harry was in a great mood. He had departed for Paris, France for a holiday in the Muggle world and looked forward to his stay at the wonderful farm. At the time, Ron and Hermione had gone to Egypt, while Hermione wanted to study Pyramids and Ron had wanted to go back there ever since he had been there in third year.

Those farm people had offered him a rather cheap place to stay, but it wasn't for the money that he had chosen this place to stay. It was because of their hospitality that he had chosen it.

The airplane landed just in time and he was walking his way from the airport to the farm, feeling like a real adventurer. It was a rather long walk, since the farm was out of the centre, but H arry didn't mind at all. As he was walking past the train station, he saw a familiar face.

Malfoy.

What was he doing in a Muggle place? Harry knew the station was a famous Apparition Point, but still, Malfoy detested Muggle people. Anyway, it wasn't Harry's business and Malfoy could be there for his work at the Ministry of course. Harry decided to just ignore him and not let the man know a wizard was in his presence.

He watched as the former death eater climbed into a taxi, which was rather weird to see from a pureblood. But just as the driver loaded in the luggage, he saw how the driver forgot one bag.

The driver got in the car, while Malfoy hadn't noticed that his bag had been forgotten. Harry lifted his hands, ready to yell that there was still a bag left, but the car drove away. Harry watched as people walked past the luggage. Nobody seemed to see it, or pay attention to it. Then all of a sudden Harry ran towards it to take it.

He had been the only one who had seen what had happened. Nobody else knew whose bag it was. There could be important things inside, so it shouldn't be given to the wrong people. He had to return the bag to Malfoy.

Malfoy. He hadn't seen the man since the War had ended. He hadn't changed a lot, but somehow it felt weird seeing the man like that. He wasn't a kid anymore, which had surprised Harry. He knew it was stupid, but Harry had actually expected to see Draco Malfoy he knew from Hogwarts. Unchanged. Harry kept walking to his farm, wondering how he would get this stuff back to its owner.

The next day, Harry had gone to the centre of town hoping to run into him, but had no such luck. He figured it would be very difficult to find the man. He didn't know where he was staying either, so he couldn't contact the hotel – if he was even staying in a Muggle place.

Malfoy could be anywhere, and would probably be looking for his bag too. Harry sighed. Harry was feeling like a robber for having taken it, but what should he have done? Maybe it would have been better if he had taken it to the Lost Objects in the train station. But then again, Harry didn't know what was in the bag. It could be dangerous for Muggles to find.

And if there was nothing in the bag, Malfoy was terrible with Muggles, and Harry knew they asked for identification first. That would freak him out already. Maybe Malfoy didn't have a Muggle identification at all. Harry had absolutely no idea how to return it himself.

Maybe go back to the station, maybe that was an option.

* * *

Draco had come to the conclusion to depart from where he had first started and trace back his own steps. He figured he still had his bag when he apparated, so he started from the station. Walking back to the station on foot had ruined Draco's mood.

He had asked every single person from whatever service to look for his bag. Nobody had seen it. This only made his frustration increase. Draco started to doubt whether he had brought it at all, when he saw a familiar face: Harry Potter. Draco didn't know what Potter could possibly change about his perilous situation, but decided to go talk to the old acquaintance anyway.

"Potter. May I ask what you're doing here?" Draco fumed rudely. He was utterly lost, pissed off and seeing a familiar face only made him feel more idiotic.

"I'm here on a holiday," Potter answered dryly. Draco figured it had been a stupid question. He took in Potter's full appearance and was slightly surprised what the years had done to the Quidditch player. Potter wore slightly different glasses, which underlined his bright green eyes and even though he wore Muggle clothes, Draco had to admit they looked good on him.

"Oh, you haven't seen a large black bag, have you?" Draco tried to ask, being somewhat more polite. It was useless, if nobody had seen it so far, how could Potter have found it? It had already been hours since he lost it and Potter probably just got here.

"Actually I have. I don't know whose it is but-" Draco's heart skipped a beat. Potter had found it?

"If it wasn't mine, why would I ask you about it?" Draco spat. He was just so angry with himself for losing the bag in the first place, and now having to ask Potter if he had seen it that he couldn't keep his calm. This was the most ridiculous situation he had ever been in. He hadn't seen Potter for _years _when they were living in the same country, and now they met during the holidays.

"I'm sorry, it's yours. I saw how you left it behind. It's still at the farmhouse where I'm staying," Potter confessed. Draco pulled an eyebrow.

What a surprise, the Hero had found his bag! Nobody on this whole planet knew where his bag was except for _Saint Potter_. Draco knew he couldn't have been more lucky, but couldn't stand the fact that Potter _always _saved the day.

"A farmhouse? Well, whatever Potter. Would you mind taking me there?" Draco questioned, not wanting to be rude this time, but not quite succeeding. He had saved his life, you could say, because a man without a wand in the Wizard world was no man at all. And if someone else would have found it, Draco would be to blame when the cover of the Wizard World was blown.

"I'll take you now, 'kay?" Potter proposed. _No, let's wait until tomorrow!_ Draco thought, but merely nodded. He expected him to call for a cab, but Potter walked past the cabs, not even noticing them. Feeling his temper rising, Draco was wise enough to remain silent. But not for long.

"We're not walking all the way there are we?" Draco whined, seeing how Harry started to march and looked like he had already walked a long way.

"Yeah, why not?" This was not the answer Draco was longing for. Stupid Potter.

"I'm not walking to your farm, Potter. Not even for my bag. Why don't you take a cab?" He waved his hand to the row of cabs in front of the train station. Potter just shrugged.

"You can take one, I don't pay for that, Malfoy."Draco grumbled. He didn't have any Muggle money, so he didn't have a choice but follow the stupid hobo.

"I don't have any Muggle money," Draco seethed. The raven haired fool was infuriating.

"Then you'll walk," Potter said matter of factly.

**To be continued…  
Please tell me what you think in a review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Declined card

**Hi! So here's chapter 2, I hope you guys love it so far. So enjoy reading and do not forget to review! And a special thanks to DrarryLover28 for the betaing!  
**

_Chapter 2_

_Declined card_

They walked together as Harry smiled inside. He had looked everywhere yesterday to find the man, and now he had just walked straight into his arms. Well, he had kind of expected the Slytherin to go back to that station, so it wasn't such a coincidence.

Here they were, meeting in France, Malfoy sulking. "How far is it?"

"Just a half hour walk," Harry responded. He could hear in Malfoy's tone that he wasn't happy at all. For some reason, he found that really funny. Even though he didn't want to be with Malfoy on his holiday at all, his presence didn't annoy him. _Yet. _

"I've already walked all the way from my hotel. I'm tired. Can't we just apparate?" Malfoy whined, sounding like a petulant four year old.

"No! we're in the Muggle world now!" Harry barked, feeling offended because Malfoy had the nerve to ask.

They had been strolling in silence when Malfoy asked: "So how's life for you?" Harry looked at Malfoy. He hadn't expected him to make small talk. He had been thinking about apparating to his farm just to get rid of Malfoy faster, because it was kind of boring walking next to someone you hated.

It took a while for Harry to reply, the surprise of a friendly Malfoy slowly ebbing away. "Oh. It has its ups and downs. It's very busy at St. Mungo's, you know. But things have improved. I'm working shifts with 'Mione, so I'm having fun, and a lot more breaks than before."

"You're a Healer," Malfoy stated. "Why did you choose that? I thought you wanted to be an Auror?" The interest in Malfoy's voice struck Harry like lightning. Why did he act so different? It had been a long time, but still.

"Yeah, but I was sick of fighting all those wars. I'm living in peace now, healing people instead of killing them." That was something Harry was very proud of.

"I'm an Auror. Things are really quiet now. Sometimes we help out when there are problems with magical Creatures or Muggles. It's nothing like the war." That didn't surprise Harry. He had read the papers. He knew Malfoy was not just an Auror. He was head of the Department. And he did his job really well.

Harry also knew things were very different in the Auror Department. However, Harry didn't regret his decision to become a Healer.

"Probably. Maybe the name just reminds me of it. I'm glad I became a Healer though. And I'm happy you found what you were looking for too." That last thing sounded a bit artificial, but Harry meant it. It was weird having a civil conversation with Malfoy, but here they were, together in France.

They walked in silence again, both feeling a bit weird that they were actually talking to each other again, after all that time.

"I have forgiven you, you know," Harry said. He didn't know why he had to say it out loud, but it felt right. It was suddenly very important that Malfoy knew he didn't hate him for what he had done anymore. All that stuff from the past didn't seem to matter anymore.

"Thanks," Malfoy responded quietly. His tone was soft, and without wanting it, Harry felt he liked that tone. Liking Malfoy's company was something new to Harry.

Draco was overtaken by an emotion he couldn't quite place. Potter had surprised him. He never thought he would say something like that. And then again, it was _exactly_ something the Gryffindor would say.

Draco was a bit jealous. He couldn't say those things so easily. Maybe that was just Potter. Draco ignored the growing feeling in his stomach as he thought about Potter's words again.

Draco remained silent again. He liked talking to the former Gryffindor. And admitting that kind of scared him. Why would he like Potter? He had hated him his whole life until now. But then again, Potter had rescued his bag without second thoughts. He wondered why he couldn't be more like the other boy.

After a long walk they arrived at the farmhouse. It was big. The buildings were build in a square, so that every building faced a courtyard. The stables were behind the garage and in the other corner, and Draco saw a couple of sheds. He was disgusted at first.

The smell of the manure penetrated his nose and almost made him vomit. There were too many chickens walking around freely, but to Draco's relief the dogs were locked up behind a fence.

He couldn't understand why Potter would stay there. The people here were probably poor, only ate what their own animals produced and had to work in those smelly stables all the time.

"You see why I want to stay here?" Potter asked, marching his way to the farmhouse. Draco rolled his eyes. Potter always saw the good side of things;

"I don't," Draco answered grumpily. Potter pulled a face, and Draco just followed. Draco looked at it from another point of view and saw the beauty of the place. The little chicks running behind their mother. The cat chasing a bird. Beautiful flowers on the window-sill.

They went inside. Draco couldn't believe his eyes. He had thought it would be very dirty inside, since they were farm people. But no, it was as clean as it could be. The kitchen looked a bit full, but wasn't dirty at all.

The people there addressed him politely and were very nice, Draco admitted to himself. They had asked him if they could show him around, but Draco had declined politely. He really needed to get out of that place and get to his own hotel. They entered the room Potter was staying in.

"Here's your bag, Malfoy," Potter said. Draco smiled. It was his bag, luckily.

"Thanks, Potter," Draco said, checking the content of his bag and preparing to leave. He nodded at Potter before leaving the room and the farm far behind him.

Having arrived at the hotel in cab, Draco couldn't be more relaxed. He would check into his room, take a long hot bath and start his well deserved holiday. The trip to the farm had been exhausting and Draco really wanted to get the best out of his free time, since it would be rather short.

He went to the man at the counter again. "I'm here for the reservation on Draco Malfoy," Draco said, presenting his identity card as he spoke.

"Draco Malfoy. Have you found your luggage?" the man asked politely.

"Yes sir. I've got it back." Draco smiled and watched as the man tapped on a screen. Draco didn't have the slightest idea what it was, or what it did, but just waited patiently.

"Lovely. That's a single room for five nights, am I right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Okay, that'll be seven hundred and eighty seven euro, sir." Draco rumbled in his bag and showed the assistant a green card.

"I'll pay with this card, sir."

"Okay. You can insert it here." Draco inserted the card. It beeped a few times and Draco took it back. Well then, hot tub here we come! Draco smiled and looked up at the man again.

"The card has been declined, sir. I'm very sorry. You'll have to pay with another one." His smile faded and a new wave of panic rushed through Draco's veins.

"What? Declined? How's that? I don't have another card." Draco felt really stupid.

"Let's try again, sir."Draco gave him the card again and waited for the man to do whatever he needed to do. "No. Declined again. Are you sure you don't have another card?" The man asked.

Draco started to hate the guy and shook his head. Why was this happening to him?

"Well, then you'll have to pay cash, sir."

"I don't have that much with me, sorry," Draco said. Draco was utterly lost. He hadn't foreseen that. All he knew was that he had to pay with the green card, present the white card and then would receive another card to enter the room.

"Then it'll be impossible to give you the room you reserved." Anger started to boil in Draco's stomach and he needed to suppress the thought of using the Imperio curse on the man. He couldn't do that, he was an Auror.

Draco sighed. He had only been able to change a small amount into Muggle money. They had given him this card, which would automatically transfer the money they needed, directly from Draco's vault.

But no such things. Something must've gone wrong. Draco left the hotel with all his luggage. The cabs were still there, but Draco didn't know where to go. He would have to go home. No holidays for Draco Malfoy. He could take one to the station and apparate back home.

The train station. That would be the only thing he had seen in France. And the farm of course. What a shame. What a pity. Draco walked past the cabs, and suddenly it hit him.

Potter. Maybe Potter could help! Draco smiled at his own intelligence and raised his hand to take a cab.

**To be continued…**

**Please review! It's the only motivation to continue the fic!**


	3. Chapter 3: Sleepover

**Hi! First of all, thanks for the positive reviews so far. Next chapter's here. I'm really having trouble writing lately, being stuck at chapter 6, but well, chapter 3's here for you. There's finally going to be some action! I hope you like it, and if you do, don't forget to review, otherwise I wouldn't know! Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

Sleepover

Harry was surprised to see Malfoy again. He had thought the man would have tried to make the distance between them as big as possible, because Harry had found his bag and disturbed his holiday by showing his face. Not that Malfoy would have passed a good holiday if someone else had found his bag, but it bothered Harry to no end that of all people, _he _had to find the blonde's bag.

Anyway, here he was back at the farm. He looked terrible, his face scrunched up like a thundercloud, struggling with a huge amount of bags. Harry had to withhold a smile. He could only wonder why Malfoy would return. He couldn't have forgotten something, otherwise he wouldn't have brought all that luggage. Harry stepped forward onto the courtyard, forcing his mouth not to curl up into a grin.

"Malfoy. What brings you back?" Harry had to admit the man looked _very_ unhappy. It was extremely difficult to not let the humor sound through his voice.

"Potter! You need to help me. I can't get into my hotel room, they denied my card." Malfoy's tone was short and angry, not even trying to ask for help politely. That was the Malfoy Harry knew.

"Card? You have a card?" Harry laughed. He couldn't imagine Malfoy using a Muggle device willingly. It was kind of surreal. When Harry saw the look on Malfoy's face, he quickly wiped the smile off his face.

"Yes Potter. That's not the point right now; I need to get into my room." Malfoy looked ready to kill. Harry suppressed a shudder, suddenly very aware of the flaming grey eyes piercing through his.

"Okay. Sorry. Why did your card get denied?" Harry asked, trying to keep his face neutral. Malfoy could be as pisses as he wanted, this was hilarious. Malfoy coming to him for help about a _muggle _card? That would be like Hermione swearing off books for the rest of her life. Hi-la-ri-ous.

"No idea. I just got it from that exchange office." Malfoy was sulking big time, frustration ruling over his normally controlled voice. Harry looked at the man, appreciating the way his lips were pursed together. Harry quickly pushed away that thought, not knowing why he had had it in the first place. Why would he like Malfoy's lips? He had to admit Malfoy had become a very attractive man. Malfoy looked at him expectantly, and Harry shrugged, pushing away his previous thoughts.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head for inspiration.

"Don't you know about this stuff?"

"Eh. Yeah, I know how to use them, but I've got no idea why it wouldn't work." That was the truth. He hardly used a card, since he preferred handling cash money. Harry didn't know why the card was declined. Maybe it was a fake.

"I'm not going home without having my holiday, Potter. I need to get into that hotel room!" Malfoy snapped, making Harry almost laugh again. This surprised Harry even more than the fact that Malfoy had returned. Normally, he would find it extremely annoying to have a whining Malfoy bugging him; right now he felt very comfortable having this conversation. Somehow, 'Malfoy' and 'Comfortable' didn't seem to fit into the same sentence.

"Show me your card, Malfoy." Malfoy looked very frustrated, but got the card out of his pocket. Harry watched the blonde while he was struggling. He looked like he had walked all the way here. Harry unexpectedly pitied him, supposing he hardly did anything on foot, and then having to drag all those bags along.

"This is it." Harry took the card and looked at it. It looked like it was supposed to. Visa.

"Maybe they don't accept Visa in that hotel," Harry stated. He really had no clue as to why the card didn't work, he wasn't a professional either. Malfoy pulled a face and set his jaw.

"I don't think so. I'm sure they accept it. I've seen the mark." Harry could sense that Malfoy's frustration only increased. Harry wanted to ask if he was sure he had seen the right one, but restrained himself at the last moment, knowing that question would only cause more frustration.

"Maybe there's no money on it. That would be the main reason for it to be declined." Harry became more desperate within minutes and sighed. Why was he the one to help an angry Malfoy? Why did this have to happen to him? He should've let the luggage where it was, then he wouldn't be having all this trouble. Anyway, it was not in Harry's nature to let someone drown in his misery, even if that had to be Malfoy.

"I don't know. At the company where I got the card, they told me everything would be fine. Can't you pay it?" Malfoy seemed desperate too, but Harry only got more frustrated with the man, the last comment setting his teeth on edge.

"No! I'm not giving that much money for a stupid room. You don't have another choice than to go home!" he barked. This wasn't exactly what Harry wanted to say, but it really wasn't his problem. He had already helped out and was wasting _his _time too.

"I'm not!" Something about Malfoy's attitude told Harry that the blonde wouldn't be leaving before he had a room. Harry sighed again, trying to get rid of his frustration himself, without taking it out on the former Slytherin. He understood the man's angriness. He would be raging with fury, stomping back to that company demanding for another card, but right now they were in France, and Harry could only come up with one last solution.

"Then you'll have to stay here. You can stay in my room, it has a double bed." Harry turned around. This was the only solution. The other rooms were taken by other guests, so there were no rooms available. And since he didn't have any money, he couldn't afford to have another room anyway.

"I'm not _sleeping _with you, Potter!" Harry hadn't expected Malfoy to be thrilled with that. He wasn't very happy either.

"You don't have a choice! Stop whining! It's not my problem. Or you go home. I can't fix your card, Malfoy." With those words Harry turned around and started to make his way back to the house.

Malfoy sighed. Harry felt sorry for the man, but really wasn't able to do anything. He wasn't jumping to share his bed either, but was willing to offer it as an act of friendship. Halfway, Harry turned around.

"Well? What will it be? I prefer to keep my bed to myself too, Malfoy, but I don't want your holiday to be ruined, and I still feel kind of guilty about that bag of yours," Harry confessed, looking at the taller man while heaving another sigh.

"Why is that? You _saved_ my bag. I still feel guilty about losing it, and now torturing you again with this card problem, it's driving me insane," Malfoy replied, defeat sounding through his voice.

"It's your choice." Malfoy just nodded, and Harry concluded he was staying.

"Make yourself comfortable," Harry said, not believing his own words. This wasn't happening to him.

* * *

Draco woke up, feeling an arm wrapped around his waist. His lips curled up, feeling good in the warm bubble. He nuzzled his nose into the downy bush of hair. It smelled so good, shampoo prickling his nose gently. He crawled a little closer, his chest touching hot skin, relaxing him even more.

Draco sighed. How amazing it was to lie here – wait a minute. Where was he? He hoped sincerely he didn't do a one night stand with some French guy. Draco opened one eye lazily and saw black hair. Black hair? His eyes traveled down a muscular – naked – chest. Chest?

Draco sat up immediately. He had been cuddling bloody Potter! Merlin! Had he gone mad? Draco quickly got out of bed to take a shower. That would cool him down and get his mind off of things. Off of Potter. And his naked body.

When the water woke him up even more, Draco was able to think clearly. That had been a normal reaction. After all, Potter was a guy, and he had a thing for guys, so he hadn't done anything wrong, right? The Boy Who Lived had grown up to become a very handsome – _sexy – _man. Potter didn't have to know that he was sexy; but such things just didn't slip Draco's attention. Why did it feel so different?

Usually Draco didn't have the time to think about hot boys back at the Ministry. Ever since he was head of the department, all he ever did was work. Draco felt disgusted by the thought of a naked Potter, but on the other hand - without knowing why - he sensed a stirring feeling around the centre of his body. Boys normally didn't gross him out; disgusted was an overstatement, it just felt kind of _wrong _fantasizing about your former enemy.

Draco grumbled. This had to happen to _him_ of all people!

* * *

When Harry woke up he was all alone. He didn't realize he wasn't supposed to be alone, and his sleepy mind had forgotten that he had invited Malfoy last night. He got up, leapt out of bed while scratching his back, and yawned heavily; completely obvious to the pit in the pillow next to his own. He would need a steaming hot shower to wake up. He walked to the bathroom and opened the door to stand face to face with…

A naked Malfoy.

"WHAT THE –!" Harry yelled. Before him stood Draco Malfoy the way he was born, his blonde hair covered in shampoo, the foam slowly drifting to the lower parts of his body. Harry's mind went fuzzy when he saw the shampoo mingle in the soft blonde curls and closed his eyes in shock. However, the image of Malfoy massaging his hair in a sort of pornographic pose was printed on his retina.

Malfoy immediately turned around at Harry's screech and screamed like a girl, covering his vital parts as quickly as possible. "Potter! Get the hell out of here!"

Harry was momentarily paralyzed and just gaped at the slender man in awe. The room was hot and Malfoy's face got a pink blush. This had not happened. This couldn't be happening. Harry felt a desirable feeling crawl to his abdomen from watching the exposed man, telling him he didn't want to leave at all.

"POTTER! GET! OUT!" Malfoy's voice was unnaturally high. This seemed to get Harry back to his senses. He turned around and rushed back into his room. It took a few minutes for his breathing to normalize, but the rest of Harry's body didn't want to calm down so easily.

No. He had not seen a naked Malfoy. He had not seen the blonde curls on his abdomen. Harry was overwhelmed by the image. The thing that scared him the most was the fact that he was aroused. Harry squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to forget, but it was useless.

No matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't get the man out of his mind. He just sat there on the side of his bed, thinking about what had happened. Why had he felt so affected by just a naked man? He had seen Ron naked before. He had seen all of the Gryffindor guys naked before. He had even seen Ginny naked, before having sex, and even that moment wasn't as heated as this one.

Harry wasn't gay, absolutely not. He had _never _been attracted to boys before. Somehow, Malfoy always got to him in a way nobody else could. The view of Malfoy's naked chest kept haunting him, making it impossible for Harry to think straight.

Harry was still stuck deep in his thoughts when Malfoy exited the bathroom, covered up in a dressing-gown.

"It's all yours," Malfoy muttered, squatting in front of his enormous pile of bags and suitcases. Harry stood up in a mechanical way, forcing his eyes not to pierce through the terry cloth, and marched to the damping bathroom.

Before entering he turned around, facing Malfoy's back. "I'm sorry for barging in. I had forgotten you were here." When Malfoy didn't respond, Harry entered the bathroom and made sure to lock it, in case Malfoy wanted to pay him back.

* * *

Draco waited for Potter to leave before getting dressed. The Boy Who Lived had seen enough of his sacred body. He still hadn't overcome his shock. He was very prudish about his body, and being fully exposed in front of a half-naked Potter was the most embarrassing thing he had ever experienced.

It had also been one of the hottest things he had ever encountered. He had seen how Potter's body slowly became aroused by seeing him. Even if a bomb would have exploded next to the raven haired man, he probably wouldn't have averted his eyes from Draco's body.

Draco had been paralyzed as well, just standing there watching how Potter slowly realized what he was seeing. His emerald eyes were as green as grass, showing _everything _that was going on in his mind. Draco was convinced the man had been obvious that his lips had parted, his mouth opening not only in shock.

On the other hand, it was probably his punishment for cuddling up to Potter earlier. It wouldn't surprise Draco if Potter would have done it on purpose, while they had been enemies throughout Hogwarts and hadn't met since. But Potter had been struck by lightning and had apologized, so surely it was a coincidence.

It took Draco an eternity to get dressed – even longer than it normally took him – not being able to stop his train of thoughts. They were adults now, not children. This was all just an accident, and Draco had to stop thinking like a seventeen-year-old. His hormones were acting like they were seventeen again, and Draco needed to put his mask back on, before Potter came back.

Potter exited the bathroom, just as Draco finished his grooming. The green eyed man wore an emerald shirt, on top of a black pants, that hung low on his hips. Draco swallowed back his comments and just nodded at the hero. He had never thought Potter would be dressed fashionable, and he suspected Granger to be behind it. The girl had taste, and Potter was wearing something that would make every girl – and boy –drool.

"I'm really sorry about earlier, Malfoy," Potter said. This took Draco even more by surprise. Why did he have to say it twice? Draco wouldn't have been able to even say it once. Okay, in emergencies he would have apologized, but _twice_? That was such a Gryffindor thing to do.

"It's alright Potter. No hard feelings. I'll see you for dinner this evening 'kay?" Draco announced, grabbing his pouch. He felt rather noble for resisting the urge to make a scene.

"Okay. I'll help with the animals this morning, but your shift starts tomorrow," Potter replied, retrieving his work clothes and disappearing through the bedroom door. Draco frowned, then his eyebrows shot up in realization.

"What? Potter! What do you mean by my shift?" Draco barked, but Potter didn't respond, having already made his way down. "I'm not touching those filthy animals, Potter! I'm warning you!" Draco grumbled, his nobleness completely vanished, following Potter downstairs.

"It's the only way to pay your stay here. Now tell me, do you want to go home, or are you going to help to feed the pigs tomorrow?" Potter commented, his tone severe. The word _pig _made Draco's straight hair curl. They both sat down for breakfast, their table plates richly filled with eggs, toast and cereals.

Draco sighed deeply. Helping the animals? Feeding the pigs? Cleaning their crap? This would be the most horrible holiday ever!

**To be continued…**

**Please Review! Tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4: Civil conversations

**Hi! Thanks for the reviews and all the favorites! This is the next chapter, and it's a rather long one! I'm posting this chapter rather soon, so don't be disappointed that the next chapter might take a little while longer. The book and author mentioned are entirely fictitious, so don't bother looking it up or anything. Please review to tell me what you think, because that's the only thing that keeps me writing. Have fun!**

Chapter 4  
Civil conversations

Draco was walking his way to the Eiffel tower. He had done some shopping with the cash Muggle money he had found in his bag and had purchased a lovely set of Muggle clothes to wear on special occasions. He had bought a soft blue blouse, with a white pair of trousers. The match-up had appealed to Draco and, even though it had been very expensive – he didn't have a lot of money on him – Draco was proud of his new clothing.

He had eaten a snack on his way to the Eiffel tower and, at the moment, he was waiting to purchase his ticket to mount the tower. Draco had really enjoyed himself so far. Paris was a beautiful city; entirely different from London. While he was waiting, Potter crossed his mind.

Since yesterday, they had become roommates, staying at a farm. How had he gotten stuck in this situation? If someone would have said a month ago that he was going to sleep in the same bed as Potter, he would have hexed the life out of them.

But yet, here he was in France, having seen Potter more in those days than he had in years in England. He was kind of grateful that Potter had found his bag, otherwise he could have ended up in a whole different scenario.

He paid his ticket. He had chosen to take the stairs, while the tickets were extremely expensive (he didn't have an overload of Muggle money; having spent the majority on his clothing) and he wanted to see the view while walking up. He turned around and was _almost _surprised to see Potter paying his ticket at the other pay desk. But at this point, few things could surprise the former Slytherin.

"Potter. Doing some sightseeing?" Draco sneered, making his way onto the steps. Potter followed right behind. Draco cursed inwardly. Why couldn't the Scarhead take the elevator? He already had to share a room with him, why not accompany him all the way up the Eiffel Tower? Draco tried to keep his amount of sarcasm down, taking deep breaths to calm down.

"Yes I am, actually. I've always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower." Draco nodded. He had always wanted to go to Muggle Paris too, ever since he was little. But his father wouldn't let him, saying they were too good to trudge through the Muggle streets. Draco didn't hate Muggles. He didn't like them either, but he had to admit that he approved their clothing style.

"Are your chores done? Or is it just between shifts that you ran here?" Draco mocked in reply. Potter and his stupid ideas. Who in this whole world would go on a trip to Paris and stay at a farm? Things would have been a lot brighter if the Hero would have stayed in a hotel himself. First of all, they would have been _near _the city centre; second, they wouldn't have to tend the animals.

"No, my chores are done, Malfoy. Thanks for asking. And just so you know, they're yours now," Potter shot back. Draco sent him a death glare. The thought of cleaning the shit of those filthy creatures made his snack turn around in his stomach.

"Who says I'm staying? I'll figure something out, Scarhead!" Draco seethed, he didn't like where this conversation was going, at all. He straightened his shoulders, ready to bear Potter's reaction. To Draco's surprise, the former Gryffindor didn't curse back.

"I'm not climbing the Eiffel Tower to fight with you, Malfoy. So would you shut up already, I'm trying to enjoy the view," Potter replied with irritation in his voice. This seemed to calm Draco down too. Potter was right, they shouldn't be fighting. It wasn't their fault that the card hadn't worked and that they had wound up sharing the same room.

They were adults now, completely capable of handling that stuff. Even though screaming at one another, half naked in a steamy bathroom was everything except adult's behavior, Draco knew he had to try to talk civilized to the bespectacled man. He sighed, knowing that he had been reacting very immature. They climbed the steps in silence for a while.

"Did you know there are around 1600 steps before we're at the top?" Draco noted. He looked at Potter expectantly, the man had pulled a beige hoodie over his green shirt, which made him even look hotter, in Draco's eyes. Potter's answer made him snap out of his thoughts.

"No. I thought it were only 1000 or something. Do you think Hogwarts has this many steps?" Potter replied thoughtfully. Draco almost smiled at that, but managed to keep his mask intact.

"How typical of you to start talking about Hogwarts. No, I don't think there are as many stairs. Most of the staircases can move, which means that you can reach more destinations while using less stairs."

"Right. Didn't think about that," Potter smiled. Draco fell silent, still observing the man. It was weird seeing Potter smile about something he had said. Draco had always hated his smile. Potter had a beautiful smile, but that was not the reason why he hated it. He always hated his smile, because he had never been at the receiving side of that smile_. _

The way his lips curled up made all Draco's worries disappear. It was a very contagious smile, as soon as his white teeth popped out and his emerald orbs sparkled, you felt the need to return the favor. It had been very childish to hate such a wonderful smile. Without wanting, Draco's face lightened up too.

"Why are you smiling so goofily?" Potter chortled, looking at Draco amused. Draco felt comfortable under his gaze, feeling light in the head and experiencing trouble to compose a proper reply.

"I'm just, … Never mind," Draco responded absent minded. How could they converse so naturally, while all they had been doing in the past was fight? Draco knew a lot of time had passed since, and that they were a lot more mature now; it still felt kind of weird. They had always been supposed to argue, to be enemies and not like one another's company. Right now, Draco had to admit that he wouldn't want to be in _anyone _else's company.

* * *

Harry looked at the blonde in amusement. He had never seen Malfoy smile so genuine. In fact, it had almost seemed to Harry that the former Slytherin couldn't smile at all. His smile was something Harry had _never _seen before. It was a rare and precious thing to see, and it made Harry's heart jump that the smile was directed to him. The pink lips revealed his snow white teeth, his grey eyes clearing up, shining as bright diamonds. Harry was captured in those eyes, not having seen that emotion before.

It was soothing to see the man so carefree. Harry thought back to sixth year, when his face had been scrunched up by anxiety. It had never really occurred to Harry how beautiful Malfoy was, without his sneer around his lips, or his eyes clouded with anger or fear. It felt good to see that he had recovered from the war, and somehow made his life worthwhile.

Harry sighed. Everything had changed so much since then. People had died, and the ones left behind had tried to build a new life. Ron and Hermione had gotten married. Harry remembered their wedding like it was yesterday. All of the Weasleys had been there, Molly's eyes glistering with tears of joy; Hermione's hair styles elegantly, as if it had been at the Yule ball. Harry had never seen Ron so happy before, and by the way the redhead had looked at Hermione; Harry could tell that they would be together forever.

He and Ginny had tried, but failed. Marriage with her was just something that gave him the creeps. He didn't love Ginny the way he was supposed to love her. He had always thought more of her as a sister, and marrying her was not in Harry's future. Malfoy had become an Auror, leaving behind his past of a Death Eater, and Harry had chased his own dreams of becoming a Healer.

Everything seemed perfect. Even Ginny was engaged right now, Seamus Finnigan had asked her during their holiday; which was about 3 weeks ago. Everybody was happy, the wounds from the war healing, scars fading, and everything would be perfect. Except for Harry. He felt lonely sometimes. It wasn't some kind of loneliness his friends could make disappear. It was different; consuming all his happy thoughts. But he had kept these feelings hidden from the world.

He had thought, after the war would end, everything would be figured out, falling in place. But the war had caused chaos in Harry's head, making him experience stuff that had changed his mind completely. His scar still burned in his nightmares, and when Harry woke up, there was no one there to comfort or reassure him. He was alone.

"Let's rest a bit here," Harry began, plopping down on one of the steps. His glance travelled over the large park that surrounded the Tower. "It's really beautiful here, don't you think?"

Malfoy sat down gracefully next to him, in a way Harry found admirable, nodding in silence. How weird was it that they were getting along and were easy-going with each other. Harry knew it wouldn't last, but he enjoyed it nevertheless.

* * *

That evening at the farm, Harry went upstairs to the guest room to find Malfoy. "Hey. Do you want me to show you around? It'll make things easier tomorrow."

"What things?" Malfoy groused, looking up from a book that he had been reading. Harry saw him putting it away and got curious.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing. It's none of your business. I asked you a question," Malfoy barked. Harry felt his temper rise, ready to shoot a retort back, but sighed instead. He didn't feel like making fuss over a trivial subject again. He could see Malfoy's guard was up, emotions hidden behind a blank, grey expression. He calmed down just enough to compose a normal answer.

"You know what I meant. Feeding the animals and such. If you already know where they are, it will make it easier for us tomorrow." Harry took a step closer in the room, waiting patiently for Malfoy's response.

"Us?" Malfoy fumed. He didn't even try to be friendly. Harry knew their amicable behavior wouldn't have lasted, but Malfoy's answer pinched anyway. Deep down he had hoped it wouldn't be like this. He wasn't capable of taming his temper anymore, angriness boiling in his chest.

"Yes _us, _Malfoy. Unless you want to do it alone, which is perfectly fine with me. And if you want to keep fighting like this for the rest of the week, that's fine with me too! But first, please let me know because if that's the case, I'm not talking to you anymore!" Harry snorted. This seemed to do the trick.

Malfoy was taken by surprise. They remained silent for a while, Harry breathing heavily in the doorway, while Malfoy got the book out again. Harry watched attentively.

"This is my favorite book. It's called '_Lonely Sometimes' _by-"

"René Collenfirth," Harry finished. "I didn't know you liked reading romantic novels," he grinned.

"Actually, I loved reading it when I was young. I used to read all summer, back at the Manor. I didn't have any friends to play with, so my mother bought me all sorts of novels to keep me occupied. My father whole-heartedly disapproved," Malfoy replied. Harry was surprised by the honesty in his voice, wanting to look into the blonde's averted eyes as he spoke. It was difficult to imagine the child version of Malfoy as a reader, since he kept picturing Hermione for some reason.

"It's my favorite book too," Harry chuckled. "Weird, huh?" He couldn't think of anything else to say, not knowing how far their friendly tone would reach, without pulling at a heartstring.

"Yeah," Malfoy murmured, captured in his own thoughts. Harry came closer and sat down on the bed, next to him. He could feel the body heat radiating from the taller man, swallowing thickly to banish thoughts of earlier this day.

"You're full of surprises. I didn't know you liked reading about Muggles," Harry said softly. He ignored the urge to get closer to the man, leaning backwards every time he saw the distance shrink without wanting it to.

"Well, I don't particularly hate books with Muggles, but I really love this one. It's just because, … I don't know. Something about the plot just pulls me in," Malfoy told Harry, while browsing through the book thoughtfully. He seemed obvious about his own delightfulness.

"Me too. The lonely Muggle gets saved by the Witch and can't get her out of his head anymore. It's lovely." Harry smiled to himself, pleased by their conversation and their relaxed way of talking.

"Don't make it sound like it's a cliché. The Muggle has been through a lot!" Malfoy replied defensively, snapping the book shut to empower his words. This made Harry's smile widen.

"I know, I know. I love it just as much as you do," he chortled. He remained silent after that. It was peculiar. Once they stopped fighting, Harry remarked, they had quite a few things in common. They agreed about that book, they liked the same country. Harry was curious to what the rest of the holiday would bring.

* * *

Potter was sitting so close, Draco could feel Potter's warmth radiating from his skin. It didn't really bother him that it was making him feel uncomfortable; the tension in his belly was driving him insane. At first, Draco thought Potter was trying to make a scene with his small talks. Trying to mock him with his book. But after his outburst, Draco realized yet again that they weren't in Hogwarts anymore.

They didn't need to fight about random stuff. It didn't matter anymore. Draco didn't have to defend himself for his actions at Hogwarts, since Potter didn't bring them up. They would have to, sooner or later, if they remained friends, but right now that subject was too sensitive and too painful to bring up. Draco had been convinced that Potter would want him to pay for his mistakes; that being the reason of his defensive behavior. But he realized his guard was creating a certain distance between them, a distance that he didn't want to be there.

Draco experienced that he liked the conversation. Potter was actually fun to talk with, his eyes brightening when he smiled at various moments, always just in time to reassure Draco that he wasn't saying something idiotic.

At this point, Draco had to keep himself from blabbing all sort of personal stuff, because Potter could make him talk in a way he wouldn't even talk to his best friend. He had _never _told _anyone _about liking this book. Every time he looked up, he felt drawn to those green eyes, wanting nothing else than to drown in them. He avoided his eyes each time, ignoring the tugging feeling in his neck.

"I accept your offer to show me around, if you haven't repealed it yet," Draco expounded. Potter stood up, enlarging the distance between them, and Draco relaxed a bit more. Apart from his childish beliefs that Potter was a bespectacled nerd, he had to admit the man looked very handsome. The word _sexy _had also popped into the blonde's head, but he had erased the combination of 'Potter' and 'Sexy' as fast as he could. If Potter would have still been sitting there, Draco was rather convinced he would have sprung upon him. Draco rose and followed the Savior, who was making his way outside.

"Okay. So, we'll start with the chickens," Potter began, while walking across the courtyard to a chicken coop. "Every morning you have to grab the eggs, check their water and give them some grain." He opened the coop while talking, shuffling between the chickens to show Draco how to fill up the water, where to put the grain, and how to grab the eggs without disturbing the hens.

"Eggs, water and grain," Draco repeated, nodding his head. His nose wriggled, smelling the droppings of the chickens. He wanted to make a remark about it, the words being on the tip of his tongue. Still, Potter had made sure he could stay without having to pay, so he was obliged to fulfill these bothersome tasks. He held his head high, following the raven haired man without complaining.

After making sure the chicken coop was locked, Potter turned left and went to the stables, while Draco's distaste increased. Reluctantly, he entered the cow's stable, almost fainting when the smell penetrated his nose. The chickens were smelling delicious in comparison to that stench.

"All you have to do is feed them. You just fill those large food bowls with this," Harry instructed, pointing at the bags with feed piled up against the wall. As Potter grabbed the bag, which weighed around 30 kilos, Draco saw the muscles in his back harden. He swallowed hard, trying not to think about being aroused in a cow's stable. "You can do that with the wheelbarrow here, and the spade there. The worst is the smell," Potter explained. He threw the content of the bag in the wheelbarrow and wheeled through the passage made in the middle of the stable.

"I hadn't noticed that yet," Draco mocked. He had considered breathing through his mouth, but didn't want that filthy air in his mouth, so he tried to ignore the tendency to vomit. He had observed the amount of cow dung, that would make his mother faint within seconds. Draco already started to quiver while thinking about cleaning this mess. Potter chose to ignore his comment and exited the cow stables. Draco gasped for fresh air, feeling all the more dreadful and hoping that the tour would end shortly.

"Then last but not least, the pigs," Potter announced, walking to another stable.

"Pigs. Gruesome! Why don't they have horses here? At least they don't roll in the mud," Draco howled, feeling like he was drowning in misery. Potter was pushing him to his extremes.

* * *

Harry was trying his hardest to keep his face neutral, guiding a desperate Malfoy to the pigs' pen. "They can't have all creatures, Malfoy. They sell their pigs for slaughter, which probably gains a lot of money. Horses aren't made to slaughter, so that's probably the reason why they don't have any."

"It's cruel. Watching those piglets grow up and then sell them for their skin," Malfoy pouted. The way he said it sounded like he was an animal lover; and it made Harry giggle.

"I hadn't thought you'd be a nature activist, Malfoy. Be glad you only have to feed them," Harry chuckled. He was surprised Malfoy was still following him on his tour. Harry had thought he'd refuse to enter the stables, but instead he had hardly complained up until now. He knew it had to be hard for him, and Harry could tell he was doing his best not to harp.

"Are we done now?"Malfoy whined. They were leaving the pigs' pen and walking back to the farm on the unpaved path.

"Yeah, I guess. That is until tomorrow," Harry teased. Malfoy's face darkened, making it all the more amusing for Harry. In the past, he would have given all his gold at Gringotts to see Malfoy's face in front of pigs. Harry was so caught up in the thought of a sulking Malfoy that he didn't see the muddy puddle in front of him.

He splashed through it, mud spattering over his pants – and Malfoy's pants. Harry froze in horror, scoffing at himself for being so stupid. But that was a mild reaction compared to Malfoy's.

"Potter!" Malfoy bawled. "Can't you look where you're going?! Look what you've done! My clothes are ruined!" His face, which was usually pale, turned red in fury. Harry found it really distracting; his mind fantasizing about other ways to turn it into that shade.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, seeing that Malfoy's white pants was covered in dirt. It was really a shame, because even though Harry wasn't fashion-conscious, he could tell those trousers had been expensive. Probably more expensive than all his clothes together. "I didn't mean to-" But Harry couldn't finish his sentence, as he was pushed over and fell with his buttocks right into the mud. Shock took place for rage in a matter of seconds. "MALFOY! Was that necessary?" he ranted.

"You ruined my pants, Potter. That's what they call payback," Malfoy snarled. Harry knew he would have been angry too if that had happened to him, but he didn't mean to soil his slacks. Harry felt his temper rising. He tried to ignore the spur to kill the blonde, but instead he jumped out of the puddle, grabbing Malfoy's blonde hair in his muddy hands and smearing the dirt all over the former Slytherin's face.

"I'll pay _you _back, Ferretface!" Harry bellowed. He was wearing his favorite clothes himself, which Malfoy had devastated just moments ago. It weren't only his _favorite _clothes, it were also the clothes Hermione had bought for his birthday last month. He bumped into the thinner man, pushing Malfoy over in his action. In his rage, Harry didn't control his strength anymore and fell on top of his current roommate, splashing dirt over both of them. If their clothes hadn't been ruined before, they certainly were now.

They wrestled and rolled around, both trying to inflict as much damage as possible to the other. Harry was blinded by fury, hitting Malfoy in the face. Because of his recklessness, he half missed his face, whereby he hit him only half as hard as he had meant to. Malfoy, surprising Harry with his power, pushed Harry over and knocked him into the ground. Harry struggled, trying to get out of the blonde's grip.

The moment heated up, Harry's anger slowly started to fade away and made room for something else. He slowly stopped fighting back. Their bodies were tangled together, both men covered in mud, panting heavily. Harry felt how the heat from his face slowly sank to his abdomen.

Realizing he was getting aroused, Harry froze. Someone who hadn't seen them fighting before, would have thought they were snogging in the dirt. This wasn't supposed to happen. He tried to crawl away from under Malfoy, but from the second he budged, bucking up his hips, he knew he shouldn't have. The more he moved, the hornier he became.

* * *

Draco was infuriated, smashing Potter down into the puddle. How dare he soil his hair and only seconds before his trouser? He knocked the muscular man over and sat on top of him. He smashed his glasses off his face, probably blinding Potter as he did so, but he could care less. Potter tried to escape wriggling his body against Draco's. He clasped his hips around the raven haired man, trying to stop him from crawling away. The inevitable happened, as Draco's blood started to flow to his groin. He knew he shouldn't be getting aroused, since he was really pissed off, but he couldn't help that his heart sped up the more Potter tried to get away.

Draco tried to undo Potter from him, but it was useless, since they both did the opposite, causing more chaos. Draco felt alarmed. This wasn't the moment to shag somebody. He needed to get off Potter right this instant, otherwise the Boy Who Lived would notice he was turned on by a mud fight. Well, Draco admitted that things had gotten highly heated up, and one would get aroused for less than that. Draco moved his legs, their erections touched, a wave of pleasure washing over Draco and they both froze.

Draco didn't dare to speak. They were lying on the path, faces only inches away, shock in both their faces. Their erections were still touching, neither wanting to shift, afraid of what movement would engender. Someone inside Draco's head must've pushed the play button, because suddenly he got up and helped Potter to his feet as well.

They marched to the farmhouse in silence. Draco felt awkward. Why had he been aroused by a stupid fight? And why was Potter as heated up as he was? This situation was really getting out of hand. The thing that frightened him the most was the fact that this was the second time in only 2 days. Draco tried to push that thought away, but his body craved for another touch of the black haired man.

* * *

Desire rushed through Harry's body as they walked up to his room. Harry wanted to get away from Malfoy, as far as possible, because he did things to him that Harry didn't want to talk nor think about. Only moments ago, he had been ready to let Malfoy fuck him senseless, hard and wet in the soil. Luckily, the latter had broken their trance and led them to the guest room.

He entered the bathroom, Malfoy in his wake.

"I'll clean myself up first," Harry stated, turning around to make Malfoy leave. The last thing he needed was a half naked Malfoy next to him in the shower, or a dirty Malfoy watching how he cleaned himself.

"I'm not waiting to clean this mess up, Potter. I won't let this filthy sludge dry on my clothes," Malfoy spat. Aparantly, Malfoy had completely recovered from his shock or arousal, since his guard was up again. Harry had been curious about the lust in the man's grey eyes, having never seen it before. The new emotion had appealed him, making him curious for more.

"I'm not waiting either," Harry growled, stepping into the shower. It was easier to be mad at a fiery, Hogwarts Malfoy than to the one he had seen moments ago. Malfoy stepped in right after him. They barely fit into the small place, standing almost chest to chest. Harry wanted to push the man away, but was scared as to what a simple touch might cause, so he let the muddy blonde be. He turned the water tab on. Water poured out the shower head, damp filling the narrow place within seconds.

Harry thought about this morning when he had seen Malfoy naked. His blood immediately started to stream faster, undoing Harry's work of calming himself down. He tried rubbing the dirt off, but when he did so he nudged Malfoy, so he quickly cut it out. He resisted the urge to lean a bit forward against Malfoy's chest and decided to just let the water do its work.

Harry looked up and saw that Malfoy was watching him, a unseen emotion clouding his grey eyes, making it hard for Harry to breathe. Harry's eyes traveled down to Malfoy's pink lips and he swallowed. How would it feel to kiss those thin lips?

Harry closed his eyes, trying to ban the thought of kissing Malfoy out of his mind, but failing disastrously. Since when did he have a thing for men? Admitted, he hadn't been with women since Ginny, but he really had been in love with her. Then gradually she had become more of a sister to him and, cancelled the wedding plans, and she moved back in the Burrow.

Ever since, he hadn't been in love, hadn't been aroused by a woman, and hadn't had sex. Yes, you read it correctly, the Hero hadn't had sex in about 5 years. Harry had been able to cope with that thought effortlessly. However, right now the thought of sex blew his mind and clouded his eyesight.

Malfoy's white clothes had practically become transparent, soaked with water. Harry couldn't help but watch the man, ardor growing in his stomach. He tried to keep his eyes shut. He kept opening them, viewing how the blonde locks clung on his forehead, dark with water, seeing his chest rise and fall in a rhythmic way, and noticing the lump in his trousers.

* * *

Draco wanted to protest. He wanted to step out of his life for a moment and catch his breath. Standing under the shower with Potter was about the last thing that he had imagined doing with his rival, but it was also the hottest thing he had ever done.

Okay, taking a shower on its own wasn't hot at all, but standing next to a pink cheeked Potter with almost see-through clothes on was very sensational. He could practically read in his green eyes what the man was thinking, Potter not being able to keep his emotions at bay.

The only thing Draco could think of was kissing the man senseless. He wondered what Potter would taste like. He wondered what Potter would feel like when he made love to him. He wondered, but didn't dare to go beyond that. He just stood there, drowning in green orbs filled with lust, his hands twitching to prevent from touching the man all over.

Draco had put on his pajamas in a separate room, relieved that the shower was over, but still was obliged to sleep next to Potter. How would he be able to do that?

Yesterday, the thought of _sleeping_ next to Potter was terrifying, because he would have chosen to sleep in the pigs' stable over Potter's bed. Right now, the thought of _sleeping _next to Potter was as terrifying as yesterday, but not for the same reasons. It was terrifying because he wasn't allowed to do anything _else _than sleeping.

**To be continued…**

**Please Review!**


	5. Chapter 5: A Date

**Hi! Here's chapter 5. I hope you like where this is going, and I hope I can update the next one asap! Please enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

Chapter 5

A Date

Harry woke up, feeling warm under the cozy covers. Someone was curled up to him, sharing his warmth with Harry. He smiled into the heat, but suddenly froze in realization. Ginny? Why was Ginny lying next to him? The shock traveled over his body, and he suddenly became aware of his morning hardness. Was he back together with Ginny?

It struck Harry like lightning. He must've dreamed about the future. He must've been so desperate to break up with her that he was actually dreaming about being by himself. He frowned, trying to figure out why he was slightly aroused, something that normally did not happen with his girlfriend. This couldn't be! His eyes shot open again, ready to shove Ginny off when Harry took a second look.

He sighed in relief. It wasn't Ginny. It was bloody Malfoy. At first, that thought startled Harry even more, but after a few calming breaths, Harry had to admit he preferred Malfoy lying next to him over Ginny. He didn't hate the girl, but the last thing he would do was get back together with her. Besides, she was way happier without him. Only a few months after the breakup she got together with Seamus, and as far as Harry knew, they were still together.

Malfoy was curled up like a ball, his cheek resting against Harry's chest, his knees pulled up against Harry's abdomen and his feet between Harry's legs. The position made Harry's blood boil. Harry paid no attention to it, hoping it would go away again. The thought of Ginny had flattened his boner, he hadn't even realized until now; while the thought of Ginny had gone away, the erection had returned, his body heated up and his pulse sped up. Malfoy's hair tickled his chest. His regular, hot breathing fell onto Harry's ribs, making it difficult for Harry to stop his train of thoughts.

Harry closed his eyes and relaxed against his pillow. On the one hand, he wanted to get up, but on the other he didn't want to wake Malfoy. He would have to untangle Malfoy from him, if he wanted to do so. His body became more and more aware of the male presence and didn't feel like relaxing at all. What if Malfoy saw that he was turned on by lying next to him? Harry jumped out of bed with a whoop. The last thing he wanted was for Malfoy to see his –

"What are you doing?" Malfoy murmured, still half asleep. Harry felt busted and turn as red as a tomato. He opened his mouth to give an explanation, couldn't come up with one and closed his mouth again. His fish interpretation gave him a little more time to come up with something enlightening to say, and since Malfoy was still half asleep, he didn't notice it took him a while to answer.

"N-nothing," Harry breathed. _Perfect answer_, Harry thought sarcastically. His body apparently hadn't forgotten about their incident the day before. Or about Malfoy for that matter. Harry sneaked to the bathroom, covering the proof of his arousal as he went and closed the door behind him with a sigh. What a relief, Malfoy didn't have a clue.

He walked up to the shower, turning on the tap and stripping his only cloth down. With the action, he accidentally brushed against his swollen limp, and almost flinched. He grumbled in the back of his throat and stepped under the shower. He could hex Malfoy right now for doing this to him.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something else, and tried thinking about Quidditch. He focused on all his accessories to add to his broom; while steadying his breathing. A flash of a foamy, naked Malfoy disturbed his thoughts, as Harry soaped his hair. The memory overpowered his other thoughts, while lathering the rest of his body. As he passed by his groin, it twitched painfully and he grabbed hold of it, no longer able to resist his arousal. The sensation made him whimper as blonde curls haunted his mind.

The steam in the shower increased as Harry neared his orgasm. He had to bite his bottom lip to keep it down, knowing that the blonde was only one door away. His release dripped from his hands, as he rested his head against the cold window, grey eyes taunting him all the while.

* * *

Draco had been soundly asleep when Potter toppled out of bed with a shriek. What was his problem? He could wake the whole town with that outburst. Draco opened his eyes lazily. He patted on the bed, looking for the missing person, then looked up. Potter towered above him, protecting his crotch with his hands. Potter had gotten a scarlet color, which made him look all flustered. Draco could see the arousal in his eyes. Potter always had a hard time hiding his emotions, and Draco could read him like a book, especially when he was not wearing his glasses. Draco gaped at him lazily while Potter.

Draco was too tired to pull an eyebrow, but he would have done it if he had been fully awake. Instead, he watched Potter trip away to the bathroom, his hands all over his boner. Draco smiled inwardly. Was the Golden Boy embarrassed by his morning hardness? How surprising; Draco always had imagined Potter to be some sort non sexual person. He probably never wanked, and hardly had such morning problems when sleeping alone.

Draco crawled out of bed. With Potter gone, the bed was cold and he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep anyway. He hadn't realized his own erection was twitching, being harder than it usually was. This had been the third time in only 2 days that Draco had seen Potter with an erection. At Hogwarts Draco thought Potter was a nun, since he had never had sex during his teens, but right now that thought only turned Draco on.

He walked to his luggage, picking out a nice outfit for the day, and waited next the bathroom for Potter to finish. A moan came from behind it, and Draco pricked up his ears. Was that Potters voice? Curiosity took the better part of him and he turned the door handle quietly, opening it just a few centimeters to peek through. Potter was standing under the shower, hand around his erection and his head in his neck. Another muffled moan escaped the Hero's mouth, his body shaking lightly.

Draco's mouth opened a little, almost tasting the soap in his mouth and watched; his eyes glued to the scene before him, his body petrified. When Potter started to clean after himself and wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist; Draco's mind seem to come to life again.

Potter exited the bathroom, so Draco took full liberty to freshen himself up, walking past the raven haired man seductively. Potter had _no _idea what he had just experienced.

* * *

Malfoy remained in the bathroom for ages. Harry had gotten dressed and was waiting on his roommate to get some breakfast. He wanted to forget about this morning as quickly as possible, and wanted to erase the memory of a half naked Malfoy parading next to him before entering the bathroom. His erection would was already good for another go, and Harry needed to force himself to stop thinking about the blonde.

Harry ruffled through his luggage, searching for some fresh socks, when he saw the Opera tickets. Harry sighed. Hermione had offered him 2 tickets to a famous Opera concert, which she thought of as very beautiful and instructive. Harry had politely refused to take them, but she had insisted. An opera? How boring could it get? If she was that interested; why didn't she just go herself? Deep inside, he knew she had offered him the tickets as a holiday present, and to force him to ask somebody out. Either way, Harry was _not _that desperate.

Ron had rolled his eyes at her and shared that if Harry didn't want to go, he didn't have to. At that, Hermione had thrown him a murderous McGonnagal look that made everybody flinch. Harry had accepted them with a large smile. The look Hermione had given him still sent shivers down his spine. Why did she have to be so persistent about it?

Afterwards, Harry had proposed to pretend to have gone to the concert and just throw them away, but Ron had warned him. She would definitely know when Harry was lying. So here he was, two opera tickets, no date and feeling enormously dreadful. He was incapable of throwing them away, not able to hurt his friend on purpose.

Who on Earth could he ask to go to such a tedious show? Harry sank down onto the bed, sighing for the umpteenth time. Malfoy was still in the bathroom, humming while showering. Harry blocked the thought of a _naked_ Malfoy, but had already experienced trouble blocking a _half naked _Malfoy and heaved another sigh. This holiday was becoming very unhealthy.

Malfoy.

He could ask Malfoy! Yeah, that way he had someone to talk to and that would make things less dull. He wouldn't have to explain to Malfoy why he wanted to go there, since he knew 'Mione and he would understand. Plus, he owed him big time for saving his ass! Harry smiled widely, putting the tickets back and thumping on the bathroom door.

"Malfoy, come on, I'm hungry!" Harry howled, slamming on the door with his fists. The water was still running, which meant the former Slytherin had not finished showering just yet.

"Who says you have to wait?" Malfoy shot back.

"I do! I'll help you finish your chores, so please hurry," Harry whined. Harry heard how the water was shut off, and waited more patiently. Malfoy exited the bathroom, only wearing a fluffy towel. Harry felt his cheek heating up. Malfoy certainly had a negative influence on him. If it was about to continue like this, Harry would even consider castration.

"Aren't you feeling well, Potter? You look rather red," Malfoy provoked. Harry gulped and closed his eyes, trying to focus on an answer; while his mind was clouded with towels and naked torsos.

"Just put something on, Malfoy. I would appreciate it." Harry didn't know why he was reacting so foolishly. Why was he so photosensitive when it involved a naked Malfoy? And he wasn't even completely naked.

"Do you feel like accompanying me to this concert?" Harry asked out of the blue. Malfoy pulled a black shirt over his blonde hair, and Harry had to make sure he didn't drool. The black fabric fit his body perfectly. His pale arms stood out next to the black cloth. Harry had never even noticed how beautiful the man really was.

"Concert?" Malfoy asked, making Harry look at Malfoy's face instead of his chest. Malfoy pulled on a black jeans, which were so narrow that Harry got trouble breathing. Harry tried to keep his cool, a wave of heat floating to the centre of his body yet again.

"Yeah, some opera thing Hermione sent me to," Harry hissed hoarsely.

"You're asking me on a date?" Malfoy ridiculed. _Date_? Like he would ever date with Malfoy! If it would have been possible, his scarlet shade would have darkened even more and he was flabbergasted.

"N-no, it's not-" Harry stuttered.

"What is it then? Having trouble speaking, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. Harry knew very well he was speechless, but didn't want to give Malfoy the satisfaction of being right.

"No! I'm just asking you to come watch the opera, because I would hate to go alone, since I'm far from interested in that crap!" he sniped, shaking his head fervently, feeling even more embarrassed than before. Harry had lost the count of worrisome situations he had been in since Malfoy had ended up in his room.

"Well it sure sounded like a date to me, but if I'm not good enough to date the famous Mr. Potter, well then, I'll assist you to your thing then," Malfoy sneered. Harry's eyes almost rolled out of his eye-sockets. Malfoy always knew exactly what to say, while Harry just made a fool of himself.

"That's not- Never mind. Thanks for coming along," Harry muttered under his breath, feeling ridiculous for faltering in front of Malfoy. Malfoy would accompany him, and that was the positive part. How _pleasant_ his company would be was another question.

* * *

Draco smiled, making his way down the stairs. He would give the whole Malfoy fortune away to see Potter's face again. How it had heated up, until even his ears were magenta. He had not forgotten the priceless face from a half hours ago, green eyes dusted with lust.

He had never thought Potter would be so prudish about a date, but it turned out Malfoy rather liked the image of a bashful Potter. It was so easy to get under his skin. The way their bodies had been reacting was very unhealthy. Draco found it very alarming, knowing that he shouldn't be thinking about Potter this way, but he wasn't able to forget their previous moment in the shower.

It had been so unexpected, new, fascinating and thrilling. Nor had he forgotten about Potter's moment in the shower. That had been extremely lascivious. Seeing the Boy Who Lived like that was a gift of God, and Draco doubted _anyone _had ever seen him like that.

Draco had to admit he used to have a soft spot for Potter. He had always wanted to be friends with the boy, ever since first year. But the selfish bastard had decided otherwise. Still, his feelings of appreciation and liking towards the man seemingly hadn't faded.

Draco sighed, sitting down in front of a peevish Potter at the kitchen table.

"When's this performance?" he asked, spooning some eggs and bacon onto his plate.

"This afternoon actually. I'm sorry for acting like an imbecile," Potter apologized. Somehow, seeing Potter admitting that he was 'an imbecile sometimes' was very _funny. _He decided not to humiliate the Savior even more while the morning had been filled by embarrassing moments, and kept the subject from his first sentence.

"It's alright. Why do you even go? Just pretend you went and throw the tickets away or something," he continued; bringing his fork to his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

"I can't do that. Hermione would have figured it out with one look. She can see right through me," Potter confessed. This didn't surprise Draco. He knew the Mudblood was very intelligent and a great witch, no matter how often his father said that all Muggleborns were crap. But to be honest, it wasn't all that difficult to see through Potter. The man probably didn't know, but his eyes spoke volumes.

They ate in silence for a while before Draco cleared his throat.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Potter, that's very kind of you."

"I never thought I'd hear you say my name and 'kind' in the same sentence. It's no problem though, I would love to see you feed the animals later," Potter gloated. Draco deserved this retort. He had already caused the former Gryffindor enough stress as it was.

Draco grimaced at that, not looking forward to be in one room with a bunch of pigs. But well, he would put his pride aside to show Potter he could do _anything. _

* * *

That evening, they arrived back at the farm, returning from the opera. Harry had thought it would be enormously boring, but Malfoy had been an enjoyable companion. While Harry was just looking dully at the performers, Malfoy had managed to make Harry laugh, imitating the performers' singing faces.

At almost every high pitched note, there had been tears of mirth in Harry's eyes, and by the time it was over, his eyes were so red that other visitors were convinced he had been touched by the sad ending. It had been a great choice choosing Malfoy to come along.

They arrived just in time for dinner. They sat down in silence, Harry still chuckling from his fit of laughter. He filled his plate with roasted chicken and mashed potatoes.

"That was so much fun, you know," Harry smiled at an observing Malfoy. He was cutting his chicken into equal pieces, while watching Harry bite a chunk off. Harry's smile was glued to his face

"It sure looks like it has been fun," he responded, a glimpse of a smile on his face. This only made Harry's smile widen. It was good to see Malfoy enjoying himself with him. He appreciated the man more than he had thought he would do. He observed his soft features, looking at the small facial lines forming around his eyes because of his smile.

"It's our turn to do the dishes tonight. I hadn't told you yet, thought you might like the surprise," Harry teased, smiling even wider at the blonde. Malfoy's smile fades, making room for a scowl.

"Thanks a lot Potter," Malfoy glared, finishing his meal. Harry didn't feel intimidated by his glare. Malfoy dabbed his mouth with his napkin, placing it next to his plate afterwards.

"You're welcome," Harry replied joyfully. They rose simultaneously. As they made their way to the counter, their arms brushed briefly, almost making Harry freeze in his movement. A tingling sensation made its way through his arm, down to his belly.

Harry ignored the feeling, turning the water tap and starting to fill the sink. He took the dirty plates and threw a towel at Malfoy.

"You're drying." Malfoy pulled a face, caught the towel and came standing next to Harry. Although there were at least 20 centimeters between them, Harry felt very ill-at-ease with his presence. If he had it his way, he would knock the man down and strip off every single bit of his clothes. Harry didn't allow his thoughts to go any further than that, afraid to activate a bloodstream towards his vital parts.

He cleaned the dishes and neither of them spoke when suddenly the electricity went off.

"Huh? What's happening?" Malfoy exclaimed in horror. Harry tried to keep himself from smiling at that. How was it that he found Malfoy's high pitched exclamations so funny?

"Oh. The power went down," Harry shrugged. He was used to living with electricity, while Malfoy probably didn't know what it was. The safety fuses were overloaded at the Dursleys sometimes. This was probably the same thing. Harry dried his hands, it was no use cleaning dishes in the dark, they wouldn't see what they were doing.

"Power went down? What's that supposed to mean? Why is it dark, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, nuisance sounding through his voice.

"It's nothing. The Muggles use electricity to have light. And it's probably switched off. I'll go find the hostess and ask what's going on, okay?" Harry explained, in a tone he would use to talk to a four-year-old. Malfoy just sighed, throwing his towel on the counter. Harry was about to leave the kitchen but bumped into someone in the doorway.

Harry stepped back to see who it was, and could conclude it was the hostess, she was carrying a candle, which made the room seem dim, but at least they could see where they were going now.

"The electricity went down in the entire street, probably because of a storm that's coming up. It'll take a few hours to get it back on. You'd better go up to your rooms and sleep a bit until it's back. There isn't much you can do in the dark," the woman said with a French accent. Harry nodded in reply, but her explanation was clearly not enough for Malfoy.

"What? A few hours?" Malfoy groaned. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course the blonde would make a scene out of it. It would be very unlike Malfoy to remain silent and to as he was told. Harry didn't want him to do that in front of the housewife, so he quickly interrupted.

"We'll just go upstairs, Madame, thanks. Can we use the candle?"

"Of course, my dear. Soyez prudent," the Muggle smiled, handing him over the candle. They climbed the stairs in silence. The rain hammered on the roof and the wind howled against the windows. Harry placed the candle on the desk and flopped down in an arm chair.

When they had returned from the Opera, it hadn't been raining, so it really surprised Harry that the weather had turned like this. Well, there probably had been some dark clouds, Harry admitted. Malfoy sat down on the bed elegantly and sighed.

"I can't believe this. Those stupid Muggles don't even know how to fix their lights," he spat.

"Don't start Malfoy. There's nothing you can do about it," Harry bickered. Why did Malfoy always have to whine? The candle lit the room just enough to see everything. They weren't even obliged to go to bed. Harry could very well read a book in the candlelight.

"I'm using my wand Potter. I don't want to sit in the dark all evening."

"You can't use magic in front of Muggles, Malfoy! You should know and _respect _that, as an Auror!" Harry barked. This was the second time he intended to use magic in front of Muggles, and it startled Harry. How could he be so mindless?

Malfoy got up, shuffling to his luggage. Harry rose too, ready to stop him from taking his wand, as the window flew open and a whirlwind blew out the candle. It was pitch dark. Harry couldn't see what Malfoy was doing, but he heard him rustling through his luggage.

"Where's the stupid wand?!" Malfoy cursed. Harry shambled to where he thought Malfoy was standing and grumbled: "Don't be an idiot, Malfoy. They'll arrest you right away if you do this. I once used Magic in front of Dudley, who knew I was a wizard and they almost put me in Azkaban for it."

"They're not putting someone in Azkaban for a stupid _lumos, _Potter! I'm not sitting here in the dark!" Malfoy fumed. "Here it is." Malfoy grabbed his wand, as Harry reached to stop him. He got a grip of his arm and bumped against him. Malfoy didn't let go and pushed back.

"Let go!" Harry bellowed. He tried to unlace Malfoy's fingers from his wand, as he pushed away Malfoy's other hand.

"No! It's mine! You let go of it!" Malfoy roared. Harry shifted until his back pushed against Malfoy's chest and attempted to pick the wand, but froze in the middle of his gesture.

Malfoy's sexual arousal was pressing against Harry's arse, but instead of being disgusted, he blushed. He stayed put, Malfoy breathing in his neck. The hot breath tickled his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Harry had never felt so aroused before, not with anyone. Why did he always have to be aroused by their stupid fights? But Harry's mind was to fuzzy to think about that stuff right now.

The only thing he wanted to do was turn around and discover every single spot on Malfoy's pale, delicate body.

* * *

Draco was seething. The thought of being forced to sit in the dark like a stupid child had ruined his good mood from the Opera. It had been a very pleasant day so far, but he could tan Potter's hide right now. He had just gotten hold of his wand when Potter budged against him. His ass was pressing against the centre of his body, making Draco flinch in realization.

His anger vanished like fresh snow and all the sexual tension from the days before took him over. He didn't move a muscle, his chest pressing against Potter's back. Potter's delicious smell penetrated his nose, making his brain go fuzzy. Why did he have to feel all worked up when he wanted to win this quarrel?

Potter must've noticed his arousal, because he suddenly stopped moving too, his buttocks remaining right where Draco wanted them to be. He tried his best not to wrap his hands around Potter's hips, or pressing his erection against his ass. Draco's head became foggy, fantasizing about Potter in a way he shouldn't. He tried to block his thoughts, but it was impossible to do so, being in their present posture.

Slowly, Potter turned around to face him. Draco could see the outline of his face and his bright green eyes in the twilight. Draco's hands made their way around Potter's waist without even noticing they did. He could feel Potter's breath on his lips, parting his own in desire. His eyes were drowning to Potter's, his lips itching to be kissed.

They were standing so close, he could count Potter's eyelashes. Draco leaned forward, not closing his eyes because he was afraid Potter could disappear any moment, tiding over the last few centimeters between them.

Their lips met, and it was as if someone had started a firework inside Draco. Potter's lips were warm and soft, feeling like they had never been kissed before. Potter kissed him back fiercely, deepening the kiss. Draco opened his mouth willingly, tasting Potter completely, his mind becoming hazy.

Their tongues moved passionately in harmony, and Draco pulled Potter closer, feeling his erection pressing against his own. The kiss only tasted like more, Draco didn't want to pull away, not wanting it to end. He embraced him ardently, breaking the kiss as they both gasped for air.

Draco looked up at a flushed Potter, drowning in his green orbs. The world seemed to have stopped spinning, and Draco knew he was right where he wanted to be.

**To be continued…**

**Please Review!**


	6. Chapter 6: Denial

**I know you had to wait very long for it, but I recently started school again and haven't found the time to write at all, I'm still stuck at chapter 8. Here's chapter 6, hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

Chapter 6  
Denial

Harry had never thought he would become used to sharing his room with Malfoy. But here he was, spending his holiday with his arch nemesis. The last thing he had ever expected to do was _kiss_ the man. It had been impossible to banish that evening from his head. It had happened very naturally, and it had ended way too soon.

Harry didn't know what to think or say anymore. Malfoy hadn't talked about the kiss, they had hardly spoken since the storm and their date. They had done their chores together, shared the bed, but for the rest of the day, Malfoy did whatever he was doing on his holiday, and Harry spent the day in Paris, alone.

He didn't mind, or so he told himself. He kept hoping they would accidentally run into each other, just like at the Eiffel Tower, but Paris was a big city. The fact that they ignored one another shouldn't be troubling him, but it was bothersome that it did. Another thing really bugging him was that _kiss. _Why was Malfoy avoiding him? Well, Harry admitted they hadn't done anything together yet, except the date and visiting the Eiffel tower. And that hadn't even been spontaneous; Harry had asked Malfoy to the date, and they had run into each other by accident at the Eiffel Tower.

Was he even avoiding him? Was it possible that the kiss had never happened? Maybe Harry's fantasy had taken control and he didn't know what was real anymore. They had probably just gone to bed, Harry dreaming about how they had kissed, and now didn't know the difference anymore. What else could it be? Harry wasn't used to these kind of situations. The only love he had had was Ginny, and that had been easy since Ginny had been in love with him since the second year of Hogwarts. It must've been a phantasm.

Harry started to believe that would be the case. He ignored the nauseous feeling in his stomach, and the tiny voice in his head telling him he was wrong. He couldn't be wrong. His hormones were seriously messed up. He had never felt so aroused by anyone before. He didn't even know why Malfoy turned him on. True, he was a handsome man, but Harry had seen a lot of handsome men in his life. And none of them had given him a boner.

That evening, two days since the kiss, they were doing the dishes again. It reminded Harry of the night the power had shut down, and he could hardly stand the tension between them. Thinking about the male standing next to him made his cock twitch and he could hardly think straight.

Images about the blonde crossed his mind and blurred his vision. He was grateful to not have Occlumency with Snape anymore. Malfoy's godfather would be abhorred, witnessing those pipe dreams, and Harry would have demanded a pensieve to put those thoughts aside.

He was rinsing the cutlery, trying to think of something to say, but couldn't come up with anything to say. Harry didn't have the guts to start about the kiss. He had hardly habituated the thought of _liking _Malfoy, let alone he'd talk about wanting to kiss him. His head was spinning, trying desperately to find a useful thing to say to break the eerie silence.

"You're silent lately," he took off. It wasn't the brightest thing ever, but at least it was a start. Harry didn't look up from the sink, not wanting to be swept off his feet by Malfoy's grey gaze.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy shrugged. Harry swallowed back a sigh, hearing that Malfoy's guard was up. Now he knew what he was like without his guard, it disappointed him to see the fake mask on the man's beautiful face.

"I mean, you haven't said much in the last few days. Is something the matter?" he explained. Harry hoped Malfoy would give him a hint, anything to let him know he hadn't been dreaming. Not that Harry was good at catching hints, but maybe this time he would notice if the man tried to say something. Malfoy was way more accustomed to such things, he should be the one to take the first step. He had been gay since Hogwarts.

Harry wasn't convinced he was _gay. _The thought of it made him feel like a mixture of nausea, nervousness and disgust. On the other hand, he wasn't stupid either. He knew what his body and mind was trying to say; he just didn't know how to judge it because of their past.

"No, nothing," Malfoy replied. Harry's face dropped. Malfoy was very distant, the short reply couldn't contain any clues.

"The cow has given birth today. I need to give the calf some straw. Would you want to help me with that?" Harry babbled, now looking up at the man. The grey gaze, as strong as metal, penetrated his mind before Malfoy avoided his glance; concentrating on drying the plates.

"Sure," Malfoy responded. Harry noticed the man was uncomfortable, and started to feel uneasy too. Even though Harry wasn't sure what _exactly _had happened between them, he could sense Malfoy was acting weird.

* * *

Draco looked forward to spending some time with Potter. Since the kiss, they had hardly talked or seen each other. Potter acted unusual, Draco had noticed. They normally would have a civil conversation when getting up, while last morning, Potter had jumped out of bed and practically sprinted to the bathroom. Draco had grown fond of the casual way of communicating, and seeing him leave off like that had given him a dent in his self-confidence. Potter acted like nothing had happened, while for Draco, a lot had happened.

That kiss with Potter had been mind-blowing. The way their bodies responded was overwhelming. Potter was annoyingly good at everything, despite that fact Draco was dazzled by the immensely passionate kiss they had shared. He had never been kissed like that before. His fingertips were still tingling when casting his mind back to the smooch. But right now, it seemed as if it had been some kind of daydream. Potter tried to act like nothing had happened, while in fact, Draco _knew _he couldn't have fantasized about such an amazing kiss. He knew very well that his previous fantasies about kissing Potter were not worthy enough to be compared to what they had.

The kiss had been real. Potter had been real. But why was he ignoring all of it? Draco didn't know what to say, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would start about the kiss. Potter obviously didn't want to talk about that.

He rather talked about his stupid cows. Of course he would help, even with the lamest chore. Tomorrow would be their last day together, and Draco didn't want it to end just yet.

Not after that kiss.

After finishing the dishes, they sauntered to the nearest barn. Draco glided behind a trudging Potter, feeling the courage sink into his shoes. He did not want another encounter with a stinky beast .

"Okay, we fill that wheelbarrow over there and bring it to the calf. We'll need two or three of them," Potter instructed. Draco took a rake and started to fill the nearest wheelbarrow, happy that he only had to take the straw to the calf, not helping the calf into the straw.

"Tomorrow's our last day together," Draco announced, wanting to talk about everything that had happened between them. He knew Potter would be too stubborn to start about it, and he didn't want their holiday to be in vain. He _needed _to talk about it, right this instant.

"Yeah. The week has passed quickly," Potter sighed. Draco watched Potter , as the raven haired man filled the barrow, sunken in his own thoughts. Draco could feel the inconvenience radiating from his muscular body, proving that indeed, the kiss must've happened.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco questioned, hoping for an honest answer, or at least a clue to go by.

"Nothing," Potter mumbled. Frustration grew in Draco's stomach and he stopped shoveling to look at the immature man before him. Was he _really _trying to ignore his feelings?

"I'm sick of it, Potter! You know that? Don't just act like nothing happened! We're adults, not stupid teenagers with overactive hormones and mood swings!" Draco burst out, practically snapping Potter's head off.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked, confused. This swept Draco off his feet. This was the top! Was Potter going to act like nothing happened? Well, fine! He could do that too! He could be like the immature, childish little bastard standing before him.

"Nothing, Potter. You're just acting like a toddler, that's all," he snapped, avoiding the question. Was Potter this thick?

"Whatever, Malfoy," Potter growled, angriness filling his deep voice. Draco wanted to remain pissed off, but the hoarse tone it Potter's voice gave him goose bumps all over his body. He was just about to say something stupid, as the shed door slammed shut with a smash.

They both jumped. "What the hell," Draco cursed, turning around, glad that his sentence did not come out like a moan.

"It's probably just the wind," Potter presumed, walking up to the door. He pulled it, or better _tried_ to pull it open, but it wouldn't move. "It's stuck."

"What?!" Draco brought out, in utter astonishment, trying his hardest to keep his guard up. being stuck with Potter in that shed made his body grow aroused, the sexual excitement wasn't very welcome right now. "You're kidding, right?"

* * *

Harry pulled the door as hard as he could to get some movement in it, but it was useless. The smash had probably broken the lock, and it wouldn't budge. Malfoy's voice rang in his ears, making it difficult to think about what was happening. The last conversation was still floating around in his head. _Don't just act like nothing happened. _Did they really kiss? Or was it some other unimportance Malfoy was rambling about?

Harry knew very well it wasn't another insignificance he was talking about, he wasn't that muzzy. The blonde pulled him out of his reverie. "You're kidding right?" Malfoy wailed in a high pitched tone. Harry sighed, tugging the door handle experimentally.

"I'm just observing, Malfoy. The door might be stuck. Help me push it, maybe it'll open."

"This is all your fault, Potter! With your stupid farm and your annoying rules about not using our wand. We're grown wizards, remember." He knew Malfoy wouldn't be merciful, not after he had just ignored an obvious hint.

"Maybe you should act like a grown wizard before judging me. I'm not the one whining over the door. Just help!" Harry snarled, knowing this wasn't the right thing to say, but it helped anyway. Malfoy stepped forward, and they tried to push the door open together. After a few minutes, Malfoy let go with a sigh, placing his hands on his hips. Harry observed the blonde, momentarily caught in his own fantasies. He shook his head to clear his thoughts again.

"Maybe we need to pull. Do you remember what way the door swung open?" Harry panted, out of breath from pulling the door. He could come up with some other scenarios to cause him to gasp, but he forbade his thoughts to go there.

"Look at the hinges, you moron," Malfoy scolded. Harry figured Malfoy was right, but the twit really wasn't helping at all, practically snapping his head off.

"It swings indoors, lets pull it together." Harry started pulling, looking over his shoulder to see that Malfoy crossed his arms.

"I'm not pulling or moving a muscle anymore, Potter. This is insane. If we had brought our wands, we could open it in a second." Now they were back to the wand issue. What was it with Malfoy and trying to break the rules? Ron worked as an Auror, and Harry knew they weren't allowed to do more than he was.

"You can't do magic, Malfoy. You know that!"

"In emergencies you can," Malfoy opposed. Harry rolled his eyes. Seriously?

"This is not an emergency, just help already, you bloody fool!" Harry growled, anger dripping from his voice. He was sure he would have cursed the living hell out of that tall, thin boy if he had brought his wand. Malfoy dropped his arms and stepped closer, ready to help.

They pulled for a while, until Malfoy gave up and sat down in the straw. Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt, looking around the barn. They had to get out of there.

"Aren't there any tools here?" he asked. Malfoy looked as if he was ready to murder. He probably would be, if he had his wand. Harry was grateful he hadn't brought it, knowing that if they dueled, the barn would be demolished.

"I should've gone home from the moment I saw you, Potter. I should have known you would be nothing but trouble." Harry ignored him, grabbing a rake to smash the door handle. Why was Malfoy such a pain in the ass? He hadn't been _this_ annoying all week.

A quarter of an hour later, Harry sank down next to Malfoy, out of breath, being in a very bad mood. He could not only blame Malfoy for it. He blamed the whole farm, that stupid calf and all of France for his misery. He threw the rake against one of the wooden walls with a growl, and resisted the urge to scream it out.

"They'll probably notice we don't come back and come check on us," Harry said unconvinced, trying to calm himself down as he sank down in the straw as well.

"Really Potter? We're grown men, they probably think we're spending the night with a French girl or whatever," Malfoy responded grumpily. He was playing with a straw stalk; and Harry could derive from his action that he wasn't as angry as he let through.

"You and girls? No way," Harry smiled, suddenly realizing he was glad Malfoy was there with him. He was glad he had asked Malfoy to help with the straw, because otherwise he would have been trapped in here alone. Before this week he would have chosen to sit a whole week alone in a barn, over spending one night together with Malfoy, know he knew the latter wasn't as bad as it sounded.

"Stop your mockery, Potter. It doesn't fit your status," Malfoy spat. Harry's smile only widened, knowing the blonde was trying to keep him at a distance.

"The sarcasm dripping from your words definitely fits with yours," he teased, poking Malfoy with one finger in his side. Malfoy slightly jumped and pushed his hands away. Their fingers brushed, causing a tingling feeling in Harry's stomach.

"Don't touch me, you moron," he scolded, his sneering voice cutting through the air like an icy wind. Harry could sense that Malfoy's guard was completely falling apart. He observed the man closely, noticing his pants was getting really tight, as in tighter than usual, since Malfoy wore pants that would make Harry suffocate.

"I _want _to touch you, Malfoy," Harry hissed, a raw undertone in his voice. Malfoy seemed to flinch at that. Harry crawled a bit closer, only 10 centimeters left between them. "What are you going to do to stop me?" Harry asked seductively. His mind was spinning; knowing that nothing good could emerge from the mess he was making, but it was stronger than himself.

Malfoy turned around, looking Harry straight into the eye, his grey eyes clouded with lust, and another emotion Harry had never seen before, making him speechless in adoration. His eyes were like grey, mysterious depts, filled with unseen sentiments. Malfoy slowly heaved his hand to take off Harry's glasses, the gesture making Harry nearly faint. Nobody had ever taken off his glasses for him, and he had never thought it could be an erotic gesture. Then Malfoy leaned in closer.

Their lips met, while Harry struggled to keep himself from jumping onto Malfoy, desire trying to take the better part of him. Malfoy's taste entered his mouth languidly, in a dainty way that only Malfoy could muster. All Harry's other thoughts blurred, all the room dominated by Malfoy.

Malfoy's thin fingers nestled in Harry's hair, massaging his scalp, while Harry glided his arm around the blonde's waist, caressing the tiny stripe of bare skin. The kiss deepened, the tip of Malfoy's tongue passed Harry's mouth and asked for entrance. Harry opened willingly, holding the man tighter to make sure the kiss didn't end like it had done a couple nights ago. He touched the tip of Malfoy's tongue with his own, feeling the sensation overflowing Malfoy's body as he did so.

Harry's thoughts were clouded, making all his worries disappear, leaving him with a satisfied grin on his face. "Let's do that again," he whispered against Malfoy's lips, bringing them closer again into another kiss. Before their lips met, Harry bit Malfoy's lip playfully, receiving a booming moan in reply.

They lied down next to each other on their sides, their bodies pressing together and their pulses speeding up. Harry felt how all the sexual tension he had experienced last week built up and exploded in his mind, only wanting Malfoy to kiss him all through the night. Nothing else mattered anymore.

Malfoy stopped kissing and Harry wanted to protest, but instead, he took the liberty of tugging at his jumper, pulling it off as Malfoy stretched his arms readily. When the shirt fell onto the ground, Harry kissed his lips eagerly, just to make sure he hadn't dreamt it like last time. Of course Harry knew the previous kiss hadn't been a figment of his imagination. No fantasy could equal Malfoy's charm.

Malfoy pulled off Harry's shirt so trained that it made Harry feel like a freshman. His fingers trailed down Malfoy's pale skin. It looked like porcelain, but it felt as soft as silk. The moan that escaped from Malfoy's mouth increased Harry's eagerness and he chortled happily.

* * *

Draco watched as Potter touched him with his muscular hands, tracing his body with a tenderness he had never expected from the man. His fingers tickled his body friskily, making Draco moan in delight. He captured Potter's red lips again, to make sure the former Gryffindor didn't run like he had last time.

Draco felt Potter moan against his lips, his heartbeat speeding up immediately. It was the most appealing thing he had ever heard, kissing him more intensely, wanting to hear it again. Potter's voice rumbled in his throat while he pressed his body closer to Draco's. Somehow their trousers seemed to have disappeared, and Potter pressed his hot legs against Draco's cold feet, warming them up.

Draco's hand travelled down, following the dark indication on Potter's abdomen and slipping his hand in Potter's tight boxer. His fingers caressed the soft skin of Potter's erection, making Potter tense, nails scratching Draco's back softly. Potter's next moan sent shivers down Draco's spine, his green eyes clouded with lust and something else he couldn't quite place.

Potter's breathing became irregular, his hands trembling while massaging Draco's inner thigh. His hands slipped into his boxers, continuing the massaging movement on Draco's cock. Draco moaned in pleasure, nuzzling his head in the crook of Potter's neck. He cupped Potter's balls in his hands, receiving another stirring moan.

Potter wrapped his hand around the base of his erection, Draco rolling his head, hips bucking forward in desire. Draco looked up into Potter's grey orbs again, suddenly realizing what other emotion was lying in the raven haired man's eyes.

_Love_.

Draco instantly froze, gazing startled into the Hero's eyes. He had had a lot of lovers, but had never seen pure love in their eyes. Potter froze as he did, grasping that something was wrong. He backed away in shock, cold air hitting Draco's bare chest. There was at least a meter between them now.

Draco wanted to crawl back to Potter's comforting heat, explaining that nothing wrong had happened, but he chickened out, knowing that if he couldn't handle the sight of love, he wouldn't be able to handle Potter either. He curled up like a ball, pressing his now chilly sweater against his chest to remain warm.

He didn't look up at Potter again, otherwise he would have seen the tears forming into the Survivor's eyes.

**To be continued  
Please Review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Back to reality

**Next chapter! I know they are taking me longer and longer each time, but since school started again, I can hardly find the time to continue. I hope you like this part, and don't forget to tell me all what you thought about it in a review! **

Chapter 7  
Back to reality

Harry was woken up by a cool breeze in his face. He frowned, turning away from the cold source and tried to reach for his blanket. He couldn't find it, the cold waking him all the more up. He remarked that his bed was extremely hard. He opened one eye, seeing a wooden wall in front of him.

Realization struck him, as he saw the straw on the floor. Malfoy and he had been locked inside that stupid barn. He looked around for Malfoy as goosebumps appeared on his bare skin, the cold making him shiver as he did so. He noticed the door was open, that being the main source of that cold breeze. Harry grabbed his jeans and buttoned up the cold cloth, finding his shirt and jumper too. With his jumper back on, he started to warm up and could think more clearly.

Malfoy was already gone. He probably had gone to bed in their normal room, but Harry wasn't happy with that. He could've at least woke him up to come along, but no, he had left him here to freeze. After dusting the straw off his clothes, he exited the shed, walking up to the farm house. Yesterday had been a troublesome day. He and Malfoy had done stuff he hadn't done in years, and all of a sudden Malfoy looked up at him, realizing what he was doing and backed away. Harry had seen the shock forming in Malfoy's eyes. Harry was disgusted by himself. Why did he even go along? He knew he wasn't good at that part, since he and Ginny hardly had had sex. He wasn't good enough for Malfoy, and that had pinched, since he knew he fancied the man.

It had even popped into his brain that he _loved _him, but he wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't even admit it to himself yet. How could he be sure about it anyway? They had seen each other for only seven days, but still they had gotten to know each other far more than they had in the seven years spent at Hogwarts.

When he arrived in his room, he immediately noticed Malfoy's bags were gone. The man had probably packed early and had left. Harry knew he shouldn't feel bad because of it, but somehow his stomach turned around in nausea. It hurt that he hadn't even said goodbye. He tried to figure out what he could have possibly done wrong that evening. All Harry had been able to read from the man, was that he had _liked_ it. Maybe he had just been wrong. Harry then sighed and made his way to the shower.

After eating breakfast, Harry didn't feel like staying a moment longer at the farmhouse. Everything he did reminded him of Malfoy, and that wasn't very handy right now. Harry knew it was stupid feel like he lost Malfoy, since you can't lose something you never had. He threw all his stuff in his bag with more force than usual, trying to work off his frustration against his personal belongings. Malfoy had started that whole thing in the first place, how could it be his fault? Why was he the one pondering about the sex issue? Malfoy had gone further than kissing, not Harry. Maybe it was because of the way Harry had done it.

That probably was the case, since that was about the spot where they had stopped. Harry had never done such a thing with a guy before, let alone that he'd be good at it. Well, he only had experienced some exercise with himself, but that was as far as it went for masturbating. He sighed, Malfoy had given him his best handjob _ever._ That was actually very sad, since it had only lasted a few minutes and hadn't been finished.

Harry walked his way to the Apparating area reluctantly, sadness filling his heart. He would give _anything _to have Malfoy back at the farmhouse with him again.

* * *

Draco left early this morning. He woke up frozen from head to toe. The door must've swung open overnight, and a cold breeze cut his skin. Potter was lying a meter away from him, soundly asleep. He looked at the man for a long time, momentarily forgetting the chilliness around him. Potter was handsome, honest and goodhearted. Draco wasn't good enough for him. How could he ever live up to such beautiful qualities?

Everything had been great, from the kisses to the soft, experimental touches on his member. Draco forced himself to think about something else for a while, to prevent an upcoming boner. This wasn't healthy. Why was Potter able to do such things with him? Why was he the only one able to evoke such extreme feelings?

Draco had been stupid. He got scared and turned away, something he shouldn't have done. He had regretted his decision as soon as he made it. He wouldn't cry over spilt milk, knowing that what's done is done. He hadn't felt that excited about anything since Hogwarts. He knew he had pushed away the only worthwhile thing in his life, and knew that it was entirely his fault too.

He didn't want to face Potter, knowing that his eyes would speak volumes. He didn't want to see the rejected feeling in Potter's eyes, nor did he want to see the hurt, sadness or anything else caused by him. He felt sorry already, something that didn't quite fit a Malfoy. He wouldn't be able to face the man lying next to him. He had never been capable of handling so many emotions at one time, and right now his mind was boiling over.

So he decided to go, before the man woke up. He would run away from it all, letting everything slip away so that he could start to forget about it all and return to his normal life. To his boring life. Draco had never packed so quickly before, fearing that if Potter woke up he would come straight up and then, Draco would have to explain himself and admit what a coward he was.

The worst thing of it all was that he had been scared by the love in Potter's eyes. Pure, real, visible, honest love. Draco wasn't worth Potter's sincere love. He would spoil it or break it. He had already made _love _to a few men, all guys with whom he had spent several months together. However, in neither of those men's eyes had he seen that emotion. And he knew none of those guy had seen that emotion in his eyes either. Draco feared that he would never be able to love like Potter. His love would never be as precious as Potter's. The only reasonable thing to do was to leave.

He left with a heavy heart, dragging along his luggage, feeling as if they weighed a lot more than when he arrived.

* * *

Harry had invited Ron, Hermione and their kids over for dinner. He was preparing roast beef, with garlic, jacked potatoes and some cold vegetables. He knew the kids loved jacked potatoes, he always made their favorite.

On other occasions, he would go visit the entire Weasley family, but right now he didn't feel like having too much company. He had been feeling rather lonely this week, but that would soon be better when he got back to work. The trip to France had only been for a week, while he had gotten two weeks off from work.

Harry knew he was trying to find excuses to not think about Malfoy, but having his best friends over would give short shift to his wandering mind. He could hear they arrived because of the squealing sounds Hugo was making. Rose, on the other hand, was a very silent girl who loved reading, just like her mother. Harry smiled at the kitchen wall, remembering how fond off their children he was.

"Hi, guys! How are you?" Harry greeted, entering the living room. Hermione, Rose and Hugo were already standing on the soft blue carpet, while Ron was spinning around in the chimney surrounded by green flames. Hermione was dusting the children's clothes off with her wand before looking up at Harry.

"Hi, Harry. You look wonderful! Your holiday has certainly done you a lot of good," Hermione spoke. Harry had to keep himself from quirking an eyebrow. He hadn't felt so miserable in years, and now his friend was telling him he looked _wonderful. _

"Thanks, 'Mione. Are you hungry? I already finished dinner," Harry announced, not wanting to tell her about his negative feelings and his encounter with Malfoy. He smiled at Ron, who returned his smile and nodded in greeting. Harry already felt calmer, knowing this would be the perfect distraction.

"Uncle Harry, will you ride the broom with me later?" Hugo asked, sitting down on his chair, looking at Harry with big puppy eyes. Rose put aside her book, rolling her eyes at her brother. She didn't like Quidditch at all.

"Of course I will, Hugo. First, let's eat, shall we?" Harry served the food and the family started eating. Harry ate in silence, wondering if he'd ever have a family like that. He probably wouldn't, he had never imagined himself to be a father. He really _loved _kids, but hadn't thought about having any.

"The holiday did you good didn't it? Have you met someone there? You really look a lot happier than you did before," Hermione started. This was already the second time in less than ten minutes that the holidays were mentioned. But Harry couldn't expect anything else, he would've asked the same thing if they had been on a holiday. Harry had to keep the urge to quirk his eyebrow again. He pretended to be happily surprised by the news.

"I do? Well, I certainly don't _feel _happier, that's for sure. But well, I guess you're probably right, the holiday has been distressing, that's for sure," Harry responded politely, modesty in his voice.

"Yeah, you went to Paris, ain't that right mate? I heard at work this week that Malfoy went there too," Ron babbled, his mouth full of jacked potatoes. At the mention of Malfoy's name, Harry got goose bumps all over his arms. The worst part was that the goose bumps were accompanied by a stirring feeling in his groin.

"Ronald, at least try to be an example for your kids, please," Hermione remarked her glance severe, then she looked at Harry with a large smile on her face. "Did you know you went to the same city as Malfoy?" she asked. Harry wanted to avoid Malfoy as much as possible, but knew he couldn't lie about or hide _anything _from his friends. He recomposed himself quickly, ignoring what his body was feeling without Malfoy even being here, and smiled uncertainly.

"No, actually I didn't, but I kind of ran into him during the holidays," Harry explained. It was better to at least tell them they had seen each other. There was no need to spill any details.

"Oh, did you? Where?" Hermione asked, a steady curiousness in her voice. Harry frowned at her, wondering if they already knew more about it, but that was impossible. Maybe it was just due to the fact that he always felt like Hermione could see right through him.

"At the Apparition point. He lost his bag, and I probably was the only one who saw it. I took it and brought it back to him. You never told me you worked _under _Malfoy, Ron?" Harry fired at his red-haired friend. Harry had known Malfoy had always wanted to become an Auror, but hearing the blonde had actually achieved his goal, ánd was Head of the Department, had been a surprise.

Ron's ears turned red immediately. "Well, I didn't think you wanted to be bothered by Malfoy again, so we just decided to not tell you." That offended Harry. They were the ones that brought him up right now, but before they didn't even care to tell that he worked at the Ministry?

"We? Hermione knew about that too? Why didn't you tell me that? I always wondered what had happened to him!" Harry blurted, raising his voice.

"Please Harry, the kids," Hermione whispered. "We just didn't think it would do you good. You had been stressed a lot. You actually have been stressed for such a long time and I'm glad to see that the days spent in France made you lighten up," Hermione smiled. She had some sauce on her cheek, but before Harry could say anything about it, Ron wiped it off with a soft brush, smiling at his wife lovingly.

Harry felt a pinch of jealousy and put his cutlery down. "I'm not feeling any better than before. I just feel worse to be honest." Harry couldn't stand that his friends thought he was happier. The days with Malfoy had only made him more miserable, and turned him into a wreck! Why did they keep telling him he was looking _better?_

"Are you sure? You seem alive to me again. Two weeks ago you just got up in the morning because you were needed at work. I've worked with you for the past three years, Harry. And I can tell you look lots better."

"I take it you're happy to see me then," Harry responded with a brief smile. Harry knew she wouldn't drop it otherwise. He just wanted the subject to change. Apparently that was too much to ask.

"So what did Malfoy say?" Ron asked, "After you brought back his bag." Harry immediately felt nervous again, not expecting the subject to change back to Malfoy again this fast.

"He was glad that I found it, as far as Malfoy can be grateful that is. But I asked him to accompany me to the Opera, as a return of the favor," Harry explained. At this, Hermione's eyebrows rose a little, noticing the slight smile on Harry's lips that neither Harry or Ron had seen.

"Why would you want _him _to come along, Harry. Seriously," Ron grumbled, pulling up his nose in disgust. Harry got angry again, but bit back his snappy retort.

"It was quite enjoyable, if I have to admit it. It was better than going alone, I suppose," Harry told his friends, explaining himself for the umpteenth time that evening. The inconvenience in his chest was hardly bearable. "But what is this really, a questionnaire?" he scoffed, trying to keep his voice friendly but his angriness sounded through.

"We're just asking about your holiday, Harry, that's all," Ron replied crestfallen.

"I'm finished, I'll go play with Hugo, 'kay?" Harry excused himself, rising from his seat and making his way to the back yard. He had hoped that talking to his friends would get his mind off of Malfoy, but instead they even had started about him. What was happening to him? Why was he getting all flushed up because Malfoy's name was mentioned? Why did his friends tell him he looked cheered up, while inside he felt more miserable than he had ever felt?

* * *

Hermione knew something had happened during the holidays. She knew it had something to do with Malfoy, but she didn't have a clue what it exactly meant. She had noticed Harry looked a bit sad, but at least there had been emotions in his eyes. The last couple of months, his gaze had been empty, and it hurt to see him like that non-stop.

So right now, she knew Malfoy had lit a match inside Harry. They had seen each other in France, she had seen that Harry hadn't told her everything, that he had held a few things back. She had observed the way he talked about the former Slytherin and knew they had become more than enemies. This didn't surprise her al all though, she had always suspected them to be more than just arch-enemies.

She had asked Ginny to stop by at Harry's place, to see if she could derive anything from his behavior. She hoped Ginny had found out more than she had. They were meeting in Florian Fortescue, to make sure their conversation wasn't overheard or interrupted by her husband. Even though he was at work, he could be home early sometimes. She sat down and ordered a cappuccino while waiting.

Ten minutes later, Hermione saw a red bush of hair making its way through the Daigon Alley crowd. "Hi, Hermione," Ginny saluted, sitting down in front of her with a large smile. Hermione returned it politely, giving her a brief hug.

"How was it?" she asked instantly, the curiousness taking the better part of her.

"The holiday has been good to him. He's reborn, I think," Ginny explained, the smile glued on her face. Hermione nodded in agreement. That was _exactly _what she had seen.

"Yeah, I think so too. Have you asked anything about Malfoy?" Hermione tried. She hadn't gotten her hopes up to get any useful information, but what Ginny told her, was beyond anything she had expected to hear.

"No, not about Malfoy, but I can tell he met someone in France, Hermione. He's in love."

"What?" Hermione blurted out, by which she disturbed an old lady sipping her sorbet, shooting Hermione an unhappy glance. Hermione continued more silently. "I hadn't noticed," she breathed.

"It's hardly visible, but I can tell it by the way he says things, does things. He was in love with me at Hogwarts, and I can tell he's behaving the exact same way. I'm not sure whether the one he loves, loves him back though. He has this sad look in his eyes." Hermione looked at Ginny in adoration, happy that her sister-in-law had gotten that much info.

"I noticed that too. Or maybe it's because he hasn't told this person how he feels about him or her," Hermione continued. Her cappuccino was left untouched in front of her.

"Him?" Ginny asked baffled, looking at her friend in disbelief.

"I'm not excluding anything here, Gin. He met Malfoy during his holidays. It's very likely that he's the one Harry's in love with."

"No. That can't be, Harry's not gay, Hermione."

"No, just think about it. He used to be obsessed with him all the time. Maybe that explains it. Malfoy has always been on his mind, Ginny. We risked our lives saving him in the Room of Requirement, remember?" Hermione's brown eyes beamed as she spoke.

"That's just because Harry suspected him to be a Death Eater, and leaves no one behind, Hermione. I don't buy it. I don't think Malfoy has got anything to do with this. He's in love with a French girl," Ginny retorted.

"Maybe. Thanks for doing this, Gin. You really helped me out." Hermione drank up her now cold cappuccino and made to leave.

"No problem. I wanted to see Harry for a long time. I'm glad we talked," Ginny smiled, grabbing her purse as they left together. Hermione said her goodbyes before she apparated back home.

Her mind was working overtime. She had to make sure Harry and Malfoy got in touch again. While making dinner, she thought of a plan. While steaming the carrots, an idea popped into her head. She immediately took a piece of parchment and grabbed her quill. Then she thought again for a few seconds about what she would write.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_I had a wonderful time during the Holidays. It would be nice if we could meet again.  
What do you say about dinner tonight, at my place? Let's say at 6 sharp. _

_I'll see you then,_

_Harry._

Hermione rolled up the letter, attaching it to their family owl. Malfoy would not be able to tell that it wasn't Harry's letter. She had done so much homework for them during Hogwarts, that she could imitate Ron and Harry's handwriting without anyone knowing. And since Hedwig died in the war, Harry had never bought another owl again, and always used either theirs, or one from the Post office. Malfoy woudn't suspect a thing. She smiled at her own brightness and started to make dinner for her own family.

**To be continued.**

**Please Review!**


	8. Chapter 8: A visit

**Hi! I know. I'm a bad person. I don't update very often, and haven't written at all for the past couple weeks. Please forgive me my laziness, I'll try to start chapter 9 right away. This is the next part, please enjoy. Most important: do not forget to review!**

Chapter 8

A visit

Harry sat down at his kitchen table, his plate filled with potatoes, chicory and a steak. He grabbed the knife and the fork and sighed. He was alone again. Even though he was happy not to have Ron or Hermione here, he felt something was missing. Just before he could put his fork in his mouth, he heard the fireplace rustle. Huh? Who was there? He wasn't expecting anyone. He listened intently, but couldn't hear who it was. Maybe Molly had gotten him sandwiches or something like that. Or it was Hermione who had forgotten to tell or give him something concerning work.

He put down his cutlery and stood up to go check it out. He entered the living room and froze in surprise. Before the fireplace stood a dusty Malfoy, brushing off his blouse with his wand like a vacuum cleaner.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Harry asked unpolitely, the surprise of seeing the person he had spent a wonderful week with influenced his mood in a strange way.

"Well, excuse me, Potter. You're the one who invited me, moron," Malfoy bit back. Harry quirked an eyebrow at that. Now that the surprise was ebbing away, Harry started to feel awkward. All he had wanted was to see Malfoy, but now that he was standing in front of him, he wanted nothing else than to create a large distance between them.

"Believe me, I haven't," Harry growled, returning to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your holy dinner, Potter. I just happen to have a note with _your _handwriting and signature." At that, Harry turned around again. Malfoy wasn't lying?

"Show me," Harry barked, as Malfoy held out a neatly folded note. Harry scanned it rapidly, his mouth falling open perplexed."I didn't write that!" He brought out, not believing his eyes. He read it again, all the more dumfounded by his very own handwriting and signature. As far as he knew, only one person could do it just the way he did it. Hermione.

Before Harry could share his thoughts, Malfoy interrupted."Then I must say I'm sorry, Potter, for accepting what looked like an invitation to me. I'm going home again," Malfoy sneered, unhappiness in his voice. At this, Harry's surprise and angriness for Hermione seemed to vanish.

"No, no! Stay. Please," Harry shouted, reaching out to stop Malfoy in his movement, but thought again and dropped his arm before they could touch. He didn't want to know what that action might have caused. "I always make too much for one person. We could have dinner. I don't mind," Harry babbled, trying to make up for his unfriendly behavior, suspecting Malfoy to be really pissed off. But after all, Malfoy was the one who left _him _behind and was barging into _his _house right now.

"I really don't want to interrupt your evening, Potter," Malfoy responded, sarcasm dripping off his voice. Harry hadn't expected anything else. He ignored the last comment and pointed to the other end of the table.

"Please take a seat. I'll get you a plate immediately! Hang on," he breathed, running back into the kitchen, motioning to Malfoy to follow him. He grabbed a dish, filled it with potatoes, carrots and steak and put it on the table in no time. Malfoy hadn't come along yet. Harry felt a pinch in his stomach, catching his breath as

"Malfoy? Please, I'm sorry. It just was so unexpected. I really don't mind having you here, you know," Harry called out, grabbing the cutlery and putting it on the dining table. He listened intently for a while, but it was dead quiet. Harry sighed, realizing the blonde had gone back home again. He sat down while heaving another sigh and grabbed his own cutlery feeling not so hungry anymore.

"I love chicory, by the way," Malfoy's voice cut through the silence, and Harry looked up. Malfoy was sitting before him, a grin splitting his face in two.

"Malfoy! I thought you went home. I," Harry said, but closed his mouth and smiled brightly. "I'm glad you like chicory. If I had known you were coming I would have made something more spectacular, but this'll have to do now." Harry felt a bit ill-at-ease with the change of moods, pricking his potato in two as he watched the blonde.

"It's more than fine," Malfoy smiled, honesty in his voice. This seemed to lighten the mood. Harry returned the smile, and took a bite of his steak with renewed hunger.

* * *

When Draco arrived at Potter's place, he sensed something was not right. And yes, Potter greeted him with a surprised gaze. He knew he shouldn't have accepted the weird invitation. After all, Draco had been the one to leave off like that, not Potter. Anyway, he didn't care who wrote the invitation, since he had missed being around Potter in the last week so badly, that he wanted to hug him right away.

He was kind of happy he hadn't left when Potter had asked him to do so. And here they were again, eating dinner together. It was curious how they seemed to keep meeting accidentally. He put a piece of chicory on his fork and chewed it thoughtfully. It was delicious. He looked at Potter, who avoided his gaze. He knew he had to apologize for leaving without saying goodbye, and for turning him down the night before he left. It had been an awful thing to do. That was doubtless the reason why Potter was so livid.

He cleared his throat, trying to form the words in his head, but couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. It had been very rude to reject him, while Potter had offered him to stay without complaining. Or with a little complaining, but still.

"I'm sorry for, … You know, stopping in the middle of- I just got sc- It got weird, you see," Draco tried, knowing he made no sense at all. He couldn't tell Potter about his feelings. What would he think? If he told him he had gotten scared from admiring the feeling of love in the Savior's eyes, he would most likely have a fit.

"Eh, why did you get weird?" Potter asked casually, his eyes betraying him and givinghis nervousness and interest away.

"I don't know, I'm stupid, Potter. It was wonderful, that evening. And I had to ruin it." Draco chewed on a slice of chicory, looking into the emerald eyes before him uncertainly. He was making no sense at all. He was beating around the bush.

"Wonderful? Was that why you backed away like I cut your dick off?" Potter spat, Draco having hit a nerve. Draco's eyebrow rose into his hairline, not expecting Potter to use that sort of language. He knew he deserved that, but it hurt nevertheless.

"No. I'm not used to commitments anymore. And I knew that if we would have gone any further, it wouldn't be possible to – I don't know – ignore what happened. I thought you'd get scared again, after kissing me you acted like nothing happened, so I thought and thought and well – I backed away," Draco tried to explain as honestly as possible, without spilling the most important details. He would _not _tell him about the love-part.

"I'm sorry for acting so childish about that kiss. I had never kissed a man before. It was overwhelming. And since you didn't start about it, I didn't either," Potter replied. That made sense. Draco knew how _he _had felt after his first kiss. That had been with Blaise, and he hadn't talked about it for months, before Blaise had forced him to kiss him again. But the kiss with Blaise couldn't be compared to kissing Potter. The way the man kissed was astounding. Draco could hardly put it to words.

"We can talk about it, you know. About us," Draco breathed, not sure if it was safe to guide the conversation there. Everything had already gone smoother than he could have hoped for.

"'Kay," Potter replied silently, continuing to eat. Draco ate too, admitting Potter could cook deliciously. They remained silent while they emptied their plates, afterwards, Potter put the plates into the sink, and guided Draco to the living room. They both sat down on the couch.

"That was delicious," Draco noted, trying to hide his inconvenience. He didn't know what to say. He had never expected to be sitting on Potter's couch on day. Honestly, before all this the thought would have horrified him, right now, it only made him nervous. He didn't even know if Potter still wanted him to be here. Well, Draco supposed he did, since he apologized about the kiss. He ignored the feeling to fumble and took a deep breath.

"Thanks," Potter whispered, as a reply. This made Draco's neck hair rise, giving him goose bumps all over his body. It reminded him of how that very voice had hissed in his ear, back in Paris. He tried to ignore his own train of thought, refusing to go there and focused on the coffee table instead.

"I'm sorry for everything," Draco whispered hardly audible, knowing nothing could undo what he had done. Why was he apologizing over and over again?

"It's alright. I know what was going through you. That makes it up," Potter smiled. Draco returned the smile without noticing he did, and drowned momentarily in his emerald eyes.

He leaned closer and captured Potter's lips with his own, feeling like that had been the only thing he wanted to do since he had left those lips a week ago. Draco's knee touched Potter's upper leg, as he came closer to the raven-haired man. Their bodies were drawn to each other. Draco deepened the kiss, pressing his lips harder on Potter's.

Potter responded the way Draco wanted him to. He kept pushing forward, forcing Potter in a lying position, his knees climbing all the way up, until he was sitting on top of him. He felt the adrenaline rush through his veins as he bumped against the hump in Potter's trousers. Potter's breath faltered, his gaze intensified. "I was a fool to let you down, Potter," Draco grumbled, his voice deep with lust.

"You can have me," Potter hissed, his eyes closed in pleasure as Draco trailed a finger down his chest. He undid the raven haired man's shirt, while the latter started unbuttoning his blouse. Potter's hands shook with nervousness. Draco didn't rush him, he just let the man finish his work in his own tempo.

As soon as the blouse was thrown somewhere around the living room, their lips met again. Draco glided his fingers down Potter's muscular back, the heat radiating off his skin making his fingers tingle. Draco buried his nails into the soft skin, Potter bucking his hips in response, a deep moan grumbling in his throat.

Draco bent down to suck Potter's pink nipple, his fingers gliding across his collar bone, massaging his stiff shoulders. He unbuckled Potter's black trousers, throwing them over the back side of the couch.

But then Draco was pushed backwards, a 'huh' slipping from his lips in surprise, as Potter crawled on top of him, leaning down in his neck to mark him. Draco moaned in reply, liking the way Potter hovered over him.

* * *

Harry didn't know what was happening. As soon as Malfoy had started kissing him, all his doubts disappeared. He drowned in Malfoy's silver orbs, forgetting his whereabouts instantly.

His pulse sped up as Malfoy left a trace of kisses down his chest. The tongue on his nipple sent shivers down his spine, heating up a particular area in the center of his body. A moan slipped from his lips before he could restrain himself, his mind clouded with a certain blonde.

He let his fingers glide down Malfoy's back, his skin feeling like silk under his rough hands. Then all of a sudden, he pushed Malfoy over, pressing him down onto the sofa. He cupped his cheek, uniting their lips once again, while unbuckling Malfoy's belt and undoing his trousers. He folded the pair of trousers neatly before setting them on the coffee table, unlike what they had done to the other set of clothes.

He then focused on Malfoy again, caressing his chest. He slipped down to his abdomen, played with the curly blonde hair before curling his fingers under the waistband of Malfoy's boxers. He pulled them down slowly and gently and set them next to his pair of trousers.

Harry took his time to take in the view of Malfoy, taking calming breaths as he did so, not wanting to rush into anything like they had done in the shed. He caressed his thighs, moving up to his testicles, before grabbing his erection prudently. He stroked it a few times, earning an instant reaction from the blonde. Then bent down and put his lips onto the head, kissing it precisely.

Malfoy's moan came from deep inside his throat, unlike the way Malfoy's voice usually sounded. Harry liked hearing the beastly sound, and took it as a good sign. He hoped Malfoy didn't notice his hands were shaking, and took half of the base into his mouth. Malfoy tried to buck his hips up, but Harry pushed them down, wanting to do it in his own pace. His nerves were killing him, but he sensed his movements were turning Malfoy on. After getting used to the largeness of Malfoy's penis, he took in the full length.

Malfoy tangled his fingers in Harry's hair, as he sped up his pace, caressing Malfoy's ass in his movements. Malfoy's other hand gripped the pillow under him tightly, squeezing it in pleasure. Harry had built up the tension slowly, which was why Malfoy couldn't last very long.

Harry knew as soon as he finished, he would never get used to the taste of Malfoy's come in his mouth. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't delicious either. He crawled on top of the boy, and after some hesitation, uniting their lips again.

Suddenly he heard someone exiting the fireplace. He jumped up, looking for his clothes that were thrown all over the place. He saw a red head coming closer and started to panic, looking down to see a black blanket covering his body. He looked at Malfoy, who only smiled at his flushed face and panicked eyes.

"Bloody hell, what are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ronald Weasley took in the scene before him, his eyes wide in surprise. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were both sitting on the couch, both wrapped into a black blanket, their other clothes decorated around the room.

"What are _you _doing here, Weasley?" Malfoy spat. Harry wanted to tell Ron nothing was going on but was paralyzed, his tongue unwilling to pronounce the words he formed in his head.

"I'm just visiting my best friend, you ferretface," Ron growled. He looked from one man to the other, a mingle of shock, confusion and disgust in his blue eyes.

"I'm visiting too, as a matter of fact," Malfoy said, not even blinking. Malfoy was very composed, while Harry was totally disconcerted. Harry's heart skipped a beat. It was obvious what they had been doing. Harry could see his friend looked at him expectantly, but it was as if his tongue was glued to the upper side of his mouth. The horrified expression on the red-haired man's face filled Harry's heart with guilt. But he didn't have anything to be guilty for right? He was a grown man, he could do whatever he pleased, with or without his friends' liking.

"I'm sorry for this, Ron," Harry mumbled, looking at the ground uncertain. He wasn't ready to spill the fresh details to his friends yet, Ron being the last person he would tell about it.

"I don't think you're wanted here," Ron snapped, concentrating back on Malfoy. Why Ron actually said that was a mystery, since it was quite obvious that both men wanted each others' company more than anything else in the world. However, Harry didn't respond at that either.

"I don't think that's your place to say, Weasel. Potter _really _liked my presence so far. If I were you, I'd think good before I say anything else, since I'm your boss," Malfoy grinned, his face still smooth.

"This hasn't anything to do with work!" Ron exclaimed. He looked at his friend for support, the latter still motionless.

"I can be very creative when it comes to _you," _Malfoy sneered, getting up from the couch to level up to the red-head.

"This is ridiculous. I don't like this one bit, Harry," Ron frowned. Harry felt all the more dreadful as pulled up his black sheet some more to step closer to his friend as well.

"Ron, I'm sorry. It's not what it seems," Harry whispered, before he could think about what he actually wanted to say. The words inflicted immediate damage.

"Not what it seems? Well Potter, I'll excuse myself for disrupting your evening and do as you please. I'm out of here! I'll see you tomorrow, Weasel." Malfoy growled in a cold tone. The amusement in his grey eyes had disappeared, making place for a dark storm. Harry looked at the man in shock, knowing that it had been the wrong thing to say. It was the only thing he had been _able _to say.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry! That's not what I meant!" Harry shouted after the blonde. But the man had already flooed in the chimney. Harry turned around, looking at the man standing in his living room, that not being the man he wanted to see there.

"Let him be, Harry. He's not worth it," Ron said, a smile crossing his lips. The smile was out of place.

"No! I know what I did, Ron! I'm not scared or shy to tell you! I – I _like_ Malfoy," Harry stambled, looking at his friend for help. Harry's anger started to boil in his chest, feeling infuriated because he had been unable to tell those words in front of Malfoy. He thought he hadn't been able to say it because of Ron's presence, but it was clearly the other way around.

"You _like _the former Death-Eater?" Ron spat. For some reason, the way Ron said it made Harry's temper rise even more.

"He _not _a Death-Eater anymore, Ron! Don't call him that." Harry didn't know why he was reacting so defensively. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want _anyone _to talk shit about the blonde, not even his best mate.

"You don't like him Harry. It's probably just a phase. You had that during Hogwarts too, remember?"

"I don't know," Harry said, his eyes still fixed on the chimney. It had been very immature of him to say what he had blurted out. He knew he should go after Malfoy, but he couldn't go because Ron walked to the kitchen to grab some beers. That meant he would stay a while – all evening as a matter of fact.

But even if Ron wouldn't have been there, he still wouldn't have had the guts to chase the former Slytherin. He had never been good at this, he would only make things worse. His relationship with Ginny hadn't lasted very long either. He sat down on the couch, repeating their actions in his mind as Ron handed him the beer.

With that on his mind, he had already forgotten that Hermione was the one who had set them up.

**To be continued…**

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	9. Chapter 9: St Mungo's

**Finally! I've done it! I know it took me like ages to finish this, but I've been out of inspiration and I didn't want to finish it in an anti-climax. This is the final chapter to the story and I hope you enjoy. **

**Please review at tell me what you think!**

Chapter 9

St. Mungo's

Harry hadn't heard from Malfoy for about 3 weeks. He had to admit he was acting childish, not finding the courage to go see the blonde.

However, his mind was set at ease as soon as he got back to work. Helping people and being under tons of pressure helped forgetting the blonde and the heated memories that haunted his dreams.

Harry had expected Ron to tell Hermione straight away that he liked Malfoy, but whether he had done it or not, Hermione didn't say a thing about it. The only thing they discussed was work-matters, which was on one hand relieving, since Harry hated to talk to them about the Slythering. On the other hand, it was disturbing, because all she had wanted to do during dinner was talk about the blonde.

Surprisingly, nobody taunted him with the former Death-Eater, except for his own damn mind. He decided to go back to his old life, knowing that was an impossible task. Nevertheless, he didn't undertaking actions of any kind to reunite them.

It had yet been another busy day at work, when Harry could finally take off his white overcoat. He already had an upcoming headache. The reason why it was so busy on this rather sunny Wednesday, was because the Auror Department had experienced a defeat during a mission. There were at least ten Aurors severely injured, that had needed help instantly. Harry had been occupied with the severely injured victims, while Hermione had gotten the task to help the less urgent cases.

Harry had been overflowed by fear when he saw all those wounded people there. Hermione had informed him that Ron hadn't been at the mission, but her lips had been sealed about Malfoy. Harry was too cowardly to ask if she had heard anything about the blonde.

For the rest of the day, he had shut down his thoughts and focused on healing people. Now, his work was finally done and he sank down in a chair in the changing room gratefully, feeling drained. As soon as his mind left work, it travelled back to that certain blonde. Knowing Malfoy hadn't been among the injured set his mind at ease.

How he sometimes wished he could go home and see Malfoy welcoming him, having prepared a lovely dinner and then finish off the night with mind-blowing sex.

But well, that were only vivid fantasies, because in real life, Malfoy would never want him back. Harry had insulted him in a way he had never wanted to, but he couldn't undo what had been done.

All of a sudden, the door swung open, but Harry was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice.

"Harry. There's only one patient left, but I've got a call from Molly. Hugo's coming down with something and he really needs me there. Could you please finish up for me?" Hermione pleaded, as she popped her head around the door.

"Yeah, sure," Harry responded, closing his eyes briefly to compose his thoughts, then getting up, grabbing his overcoat again and following his female friend. Of course he would help Hermione out. If he would've had children, she would have done the same for him. He quickly got his mind off of kids, an image of a platinum blond haired girl with grey eyes already burned on his retina. How could he think about having kids with Malfoy? He wasn't even able to become his boyfriend to start with.

"Thanks so much, Harry. I really appreciate it. The file's over there, and see you tomorrow!" Hermione smiled, as she made her way to the entrance of St. Mungo's. Harry knew she would pass through the glass of the old shop, run to the Leaky Coldron, which was only a few blocks away and then use the floo there to arrive at the nest in a hurry.

"You're welcome. Tell the kids I said hi!" Harry replied, walking to the counter to check the form. He didn't even look at it as he made his way to the waiting room. He always pitied the last ones, having to wait hours to get assistance. On a tied up day like this, it could take forever to be helped out.

He knocked on the door lightly and pushed it open. A blonde man rose from his seat, almost making Harry choke in his spit.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry breathed, motioning to the former Slytherin to follow him. Of all people, Malfoy had to be the one he had to take care of. Hermione had probably set them up again, but his brain was too occupied trying not to think about Malfoy in his naked glory, that it didn't even cross his mind. Malfoy accompanied Harry in silence. He entered an examination room, still feeling out of his element because of the blonde. His heart raced as he turned around to look up at Malfoy's face, eyes meeting.

"You can take a seat, Malfoy," Harry said, motioning to the large examination bed. It was a relief that the blonde's life wasn't threatened. Still, his heart wasn't put at rest by seeing the man.

"You're looking quite good, as I may say so, Malfoy. You only seem to have this large cut above your eye. I'll first clean it and heal it," Harry reported, lifting Malfoy's head to look at the gash. His fingers tingled, as he touched Malfoy's soft skin. Sensation rushed through his body, but he kept his calm. Malfoy seemed unaffected by Harry's presence, and that only made Harry want the man more.

Harry healed the gash cautiously, making sure it wouldn't leave a scar behind. Harry stepped back again, looked at Malfoy and asked: "Are there any other complains, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Except for you being an insufferable git, I don't think so," Malfoy sneered unwavering. Harry felt a wave of nausea flow through his body. Malfoy was right.

"I know. I'm sorry for that. I know my apology doesn't take away my comment nor the fact that I'm a scaredy-cat."

"I saw that one coming, Potter. Every time I start about the subject that you were trying to avoid, you suddenly find the courage to talk about it. We're not children anymore," Malfoy sighed, hopping off the bed. Harry knew it was now or never.

"No, wait. I can explain it. I didn't mean what I said. If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have done it. I wasn't ready for Ron to see what happened when he barged in like that. That was all. I don't regret anything I said or did. Honestly," Harry blurted, facing Malfoy. The latter didn't respond. Harry hadn't expected it to be this easy. He would have to do better.

"It would even have been awkward when Ron would've already known about our relationship and caught us. Don't you think? It was just so sudden, and I wish it could have gone otherwise. It isn't because of you I acted that way, I know I _love_ you and, I know I have guy preferences, I just wasn't ready for them to know about my sex-life," Harry confessed, glancing at the ground. He was very aware of the fact he had just told Malfoy he loved him. But still, the blonde was unaffected by his words.

Malfoy didn't turn around, but stepped forward to the door. Harry looked up, alarmed.

"Don't go. I-"

"Honestly Potter, did you actually wait for Granger to set us up again? And don't tell me you didn't know I was the last one for a check-up. I'm too old for this teenage behavior."

"I didn't know about Hermione. At least not until I actually _saw _you in that waiting room. Honestly. I don't need her to get us together, you stupid prick. Are you going to be a pain in the ass all day or what?" Harry grunted, stepping forward and grabbing Malfoy's wrist.

"I'll be a pain in the ass whenever I want, Healer Potter. But tell me, did you really just say you _loved_ me?" Something in Malfoy's attitude changed, and Harry knew he had said the right thing.

"I- I, … er," Harry stammered. What was happening to him? Why couldn't he talk all of a sudden?

"Your fish imitation is really adoring, Potter, but I liked you better when you just talked straight away," Malfoy grinned. The carefree smile crossing the blonde's pink lips was contagious and Harry smiled back foolishly.

"Unlike what you think, I really suck in this stuff. I never had to convince anyone I loved her. They always loved me first, and then I said it back and it just happened," Harry said sheepishly, feeling all the more idiot as the blonde watched him expectantly.

"I didn't expect you to boast like that, Potter. Does that have to make me feel special?" Malfoy replied smoothly, his voice as cold as ice. This caught Harry off guard, anger rising inside his stomach.

"I don't know! Just – go fuck yourself," Harry grumbled, his voice not louder than a deep, low growl. He walked past Malfoy to exit the room, but was stopped by the latter before he could grab the door handle.

"I don't fancy fucking myself, Potter. But just so you know, I _would_ fancy fucking the living hell out of you." Malfoy's deep voice gave Harry goose bumps all over his body.

"What are you-"

"Come on, I need you on the examination bed right away," Malfoy purred, pushing Harry backwards until he bumped in the white bed. "Let me take a look at you Mr. Potter. Where does it hurt? This here seems to be very swollen. Have you bumped into something?" Malfoy smiled, cupping the bump in Harry's trousers.

"I bumped into you, Doctor Malfoy," Harry hissed, his temperature rising. Malfoy leaned forward, and Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed his head between his hand and kissed the blonde on his lips as if he had never kissed anyone before.

The kiss heated up, both men unaware of their surroundings. Harry felt like he had been lifeless from the day Malfoy had exited his house until now. All he wanted to do was kiss the man and hold him close.

Harry undid Malfoy's blouse, throwing it on the clean white floor carelessly. He then reunited their lips hurriedly, that being the only thing he wanted to do. He felt Malfoy's soft tongue entering his mouth, a deep moan rising from the back of his throat as he swooned in the taste. Malfoy pushed him back, crawling on top of him.

His white Healer coat flew across the room in no time. Harry's breathing was speeding up, his fingers trembling as he wanted to open Malfoy's trousers. It took him ages, but Malfoy let him do his thing while nibbling Harry's neck. That only made it more difficult for Harry to focus. As Draco's tight-fitting trousers flew across the room, Harry was already naked without knowing.

As Harry pulled back from another mind-blowing kiss, he brought out shakily: "Fuck Malfoy. What if somebody hears us?" Harry whimpered as Malfoy grabbed hold of his hard on, yet again forgetting where he was.

"I already cast the spells Potter. I didn't expect you to be such a rooky at this," Malfoy replied, his voice sounding hoarse.

"I'm not a rooky at this, Malfoy. Ginny just preferred having sex at home in our bed," Harry said with dignity, striping down Malfoy's boxers as he did so. His swollen member was revealed and Harry touched it carefully, following the lines of the veins and rumbling through the blonde curls thoughtfully.

"Stop playing around and grab it already," Malfoy whimpered with closed eyes, his voice unnaturally high.

"I'm a rooky, Malfoy. Let me get used to this first. What would you do on your first time?" Harry replied playfully, continuing his teasing. But when Malfoy started stroking his erection with eagerness, Harry couldn't refrain himself from massaging Malfoy's member as well.

His hands felt so right on his cock, their bodies fitting together perfectly. The temperature rose. Both men were so caught up in each other that even if a bomb would have exploded in St. Mungo's, they wouldn't have noticed it. Harry's breathing became irregular, Malfoys slender fingers doing something he had never felt before.

"Malfoy, please," Harry moaned, his eyes closed in pleasure. When he opened them, he met grey orbs, filled with pleasure and love. _Love. _Seeing this emotion in those silvery eyes, was unexpected.

"What is it, Potter?" Malfoy questioned, his voice filled with sexiness.

"Stop or I'll be finished right away," Harry whispered in Malfoy's ear. He took his earlobe in his mouth, nibbling it and getting a positive reaction from the man above him.

"I'm not finished with you yet, Potter. I'm going to make you scream my name like a girl," Malfoy groaned, his eyes glimmering with pleasure. All of a sudden Harry felt something cold entering his rectum, and his eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing?"

"Hush, Potter. It's just a lubrication charm. I told you I'd fuck you senseless, didn't I?"

"But I've never. I-" Malfoy seemed so self-assure while he was like a fish out of the water.

"I know you've never done this before. I'll be very careful, Potter. I promise," Malfoy whispered, kissing Harry softly. Harry calmed down again, relaxing under the blonde and closing his eyes. he wanted Malfoy to make love to him.

"I need you to open your legs a bit, Potter. Can you do that?"

* * *

As Potter closed his eyes, Draco smiled at the man under him. He had never fucked anyone before, and the fact that Potter surrendered so freely made him feel warm inside. A kind of warmth he had never felt before.

It was just like that moment in the couch. No one had ever gone down on him so willingly, and the fact that Potter didn't even question such things, made Draco feel like a rooky too.

Slowly, Draco entered one digit, observing Potter's bright green eyes attentively.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, as he felt Harry tense around his finger.

"I don't-" Potter squeezed his eyes shut and Draco pulled back immediately.

"It always hurts a bit the first time," Draco said, while stroking Potter's erection. "There is a spell to relax you down a bit. You want me to use it?" Draco asked.

"No. I want to feel everything you do to me," Potter answered, his voice a deep growl. This sent a wave of pleasure through Draco's entire body. He bent down over Potter and sucked his nipple. He could feel how the man became more and more aroused. Draco kissed Potter's chest and made a trail down until he reached Potter's stiff member.

He licked it teasingly, earning a growl from Potter's mouth. This only made Draco want the man under him more and he took in Potter's full length, as he entered his digit once again.

Potter moaned again, his moan filled with pain and pleasure at the same time. Draco pushed forward as he sucked Potter's head. He felt Potter's heart beating against his hands, and the quick pace of it only aroused Draco more.

"How's it feeling?" Draco asked, looking up at the raven-haired man under him.

"Hmm," was all that escaped from Potter's mouth. Draco smiled with victory and moved his finger a bit. He felt Potter relax and knew he was reaching the right spot. Excitement rushed through Draco's veins. He had never done this before, and he was really nervous and thrilled at the same time. The fact that he _knew _what Potter was feeling right now, almost made him explode.

When he felt Potter move against his finger in pleasure, he entered a second one. At first, he only earned a deep unhappy growl from the muscular man, but after getting used to the feeling, Potter's breathing became irregular yet again.

"I want- I want you, …" Potter brought out, heavily breathing. Draco kissed the man under him desperately, having never felt this close to anyone before.

"Okay," Draco whispered, barely audible. He cast a lubrication charm over his member, his face scrunching up at the cold feeling and then spread Potter's legs a bit wider.

"Please, Draco," Potter whimpered, his eyes looking into Draco's intensely. The use of Draco's first name sent shivers down Draco's spine. It sounded so beautiful, hearing it out of Potters mouth.

Draco entered Potter slowly. The heat unwrapping his penis was overwhelming, making him want to thrust into the other man eagerly, but he withheld himself, seeing the pained expression on Potter's face. He remembered his first time too, how badly it had hurt. His lover hadn't taken his painful expression in account, having made it all the more painful for Draco.

He moved slowly, giving Potter the time to get used to him and searching for the pleasure spot. As soon as he reached it, he could feel Potter curl up in desire under him. Draco couldn't withhold himself any longer, thrusting forward as Potter tightened around him in pleasure. He kissed Potter eagerly, and when Potter's tongue entered his mouth, he felt as complete as he could ever be.

"Look at me," Draco whispered huskily, as he felt how Potter came closer to the edge. As Potter looked up at him, he saw how his Potter's bright green eyes had grown dark with lust and pleasure. His hazy look was fixed on his face until Potter tightened around him and his head fell back, a groan expressing his orgasm. It only took Draco two extra thrusts to lose himself in a white, hot orgasm as well.

"I love you, Harry," Draco whispered, his voice sounding hoarse. The words fell off his lips naturally.

"Don't call me Harry," Potter replied. It was as if a block of ice had landed in Draco's stomach. He frowned confused. An uneasy feeling filled his heart as Potter rejected the use of his first name.

"I love how it sounds. But you're the only one who calls me Potter. I like it that way," Potter added, as Draco wanted to push the man away. Draco relaxed again, smiling at Potters red lips and kissing them.

"For a moment I thought you'd hate me again," Draco smiled, feeling relieved by Potter's answer.

"How could I hate you? I've loved you since Hogwarts," Potter replied. Draco closed his eyes and relaxed against Potter's chest. That were the most beautiful words he had ever heard.

"I've loved you from the day I offered you my friendship," Draco whispered silently.

Strangled around each other, both men looked up at each other, finally being where they wanted to be.

"Meeting you in France was the best thing that happened to me since I left Hogwarts," Draco said, nuzzling in Potter's chest fondly. Potter wrapped his arms tighter around Draco's slim figure and looked him straight in the eye as he spoke: "I'm not letting you go again, Malfoy. I've let you run twice, but I'm not letting that happen three times."

"We'll will have to go home at some point, Potter," Draco teased, a smile crossing his lips

"You're staying with me," Potter replied sitting up. "Tonight will be _my _time to fuck you senseless, Malfoy. I want you to feel the exact way I did."

"Sounds tempting. But I'm hungry right now. Let's grab something to eat, shall we?"

Potter jumped off the examination bed, grabbing Draco's underwear, handing it to him with a smile. They exited St. Mungo's with goofy smiles on their faces, holding hands as they went.

***The End***

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